Rhett stroked the stubble where his beard used to be. He pulled the blinds up to let in the setting Arizona sun. With the daytime heat melting away, Rhett unlatched the window and pushed it out, welcoming in the cool evening breeze to the cramped little bedroom. The sun's lush yellow core painted both the dull sky and the dull sand a warm orange. He turned around to face the bed. Jackie sat upright, the deep red wound on her leg standing out against her faded white sheets and nightgown. The tips of her fraying blonde hair lay upon her crossed arms. Her eyes followed Rhett as he stepped back from the window and shuffled over to the tattered green armchair in the corner. Once seated, he leaned his head back and rolled up his sleeves. He folded his arms to mirror his wife. “So?” Jackie folded her arms the other way. “So what?” “You gonna let me take you to a doctor or what?” Jackie reached for the water pitcher on the night stand next to her. “Not today, dearest honey-bun,” she said in a high mocking tone. She poured some water on her hand and let it drip onto the gash on her leg. Rhett frowned. “I’m not jokin’ around, Jack. I think you need a doctor.” “And I think we can’t afford that.” Jackie flicked the remaining water in her hand onto the wound and set the pitcher down. “Besides, I’m doing just fine. As my mother always said, time heals moist wounds.” “Your upbringin’ must’ve been awful strange, I tell you.” Rhett stood up. “Fine. But if we’re stayin’ here, we’re gonna do it right.” He picked up the small jar next to the water pitcher and held it out to Jackie. “You’ve got the wrong sayin' in mind. It’s ‘thyme heals most wounds’. Here, take it already.” Jackie grabbed the jar and threw it at the green armchair. “I’m not taking your crockpot home remedies either.” She folded her arms again and huffed. “You know, I wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for your rambunctious dogs.” “Hey now, Time’s got a heart o’ gold, but I warned you about Most, I really did. Most isn't trained as well as Time.” Rhett licked his lips. “I said it once, I said it a thousand times; Time heels, Most wounds.” Jackie leaned her head back against the headboard, closing her eyes and furrowing her eyebrows. It was then that Rhett noticed the sweat on her forehead and the redness in her face. He unrolled his shirt sleeve and used it to pat her forehead, then held her hand in his own. Jackie rolled her head away from Rhett’s sleeve, looking down at her leg. “Well, Rhett? Was it worth it?” Rhett held Jackie’s hand with both of his. “What do you mean? Our marriage? Our life together? Of course it was, darlin’, of course.” Jackie tightened her jaw, her eyes locked on her wound. “No, was it worth digging the thyme out of the back corner of our spice cabinet? Eight years ago, naming your dogs Time and Most so you could make that joke? So you could mock me on my deathbed like this?” She rolled her head towards his, narrowing her eyes. “Was it really all that clever, Rhett? Was it so smart?” Rhett shrugged. “Did you laugh?” Jackie lay back in the bed, folding her arms again. She coughed. “What do you think?” Rhett reached out and gently unfolded his wife’s arms, laying them flat against the sheets. “How long'll we keep answering each other’s questions with more questions?” For the first time that evening, Jackie cracked a grin. “See, that one's not half bad, partly because it was itself a question.” She blinked, though slowly. Her breathing slowed as more sweat beaded on her forehead. “You should tell more jokes like that one.” Her head rolled down to lay on her shoulder, her neck too weak to carry it. Rhett caught her head and held it up. “Jackie? Are you okay?” “Promise me you will, Rhett,” she said, her voice quivering. “Promise me you’ll tell better jokes.” Rhett nodded, holding on to Jackie, stroking her cheek. “Sure, Jack, 'course I can. I’ll tell better jokes. I swear I will.” “Thank you,” Jackie said, her eyes glossy with tears. “Thank you, Rhett.” Rhett nodded, gripping her hand. The sun fully set behind Rhett, the sky and sand fading to blue.