“They’re instruments my aunt gave me when I started med school. She called it the quick-fix kit.” Gwen smiled as she ran her fingers over all of the items again. “I can numb your pain, stitch you up, and I can even listen to your heart, but that’s about all,” she said, shaking her head. “This is my old iPhone,” she explained, holding it up along with her mini speaker. “I kept it just so I could use it for the music. These are extra battery packs since I always seemed to have a problem with charging cords. And this, Greylen,” she said, holding up a mini bottle and removing the top, “is vodka, sweet blessed vodka.”

Greylen stopped her before she could drink. “What is it, Gwendolyn?” he demanded.

“It’s a strong liquor, and the ones I have happen to be top of the line. You’ve never tasted anything like it.”

He watched as she drained half the mini bottle and then closed her eyes. “Much better.” She sighed, holding it out to him. “Try it.”

Greylen took it from her hand, smelling the drink before taking a sip. “I’ve tasted it before. But not so refined.”

“Well, we have twelve more.” She counted. “Oh God, I packed thirteen.” She groaned, reaching for another bottle before crawling into his lap.

Greylen held her, rubbing her back. “Do you feel better?”

“No. Do you?”

“Nay.”

She reached up to brush the hair from his face. “Well,” she said, then sighed. “I’m getting drunk.”

“Drunk? As in sotted?” he asked. “You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, but I am,” she said, finishing the bottle. “Join me, Greylen. It’ll be our last party before, whatever.”

Greylen must have sensed she was trying to stop the endless, horrid possibilities running through her mind. His large hands engulfed her frame, bringing her close enough to rub his lips against her. He sighed and said, “Give me a bottle.”

“How about some music?” she asked.

“You wish to go below stairs now?”

“I have another surprise, Greylen.”

“I’ve truly had enough already, Gwen.” He shook his head.

Gwen could feel for him, she really could. Here he was once again confronted with things he couldn’t quite understand, or things that should be beyond his compression, and the man stood firm. Actually, he stood proud and tall, and she found herself ridiculously lucky to be married to him. She picked out a playlist, said a quick prayer, and waited.

He was smart, that husband of hers. He grabbed the phone out of her hand first and then the speaker, somehow knowing they were connected. “Never leave home without it.” Gwen laughed as she watched him turn both in his hands.

“How does this operate?” he asked.

“I don’t have a clue.” She shrugged. “It would take me days to even try.”