Page 49 of Recipes for Life

I couldn’t help but blush, even still when asked about it.

“In this life, and the next.”

“And what does that mean?”

“You know.”

“And you know I’m going to ask you to explain it to me,again.”

The buzzer went off on his desk, and he all but swatted it, almost breaking it.

“Ignore that. Continue.”

“Don’t you have other appointments?”

“They can wait. Explain it to me again; what does,in this life, and the next,mean for you?”

“It’s what I live by. I know who I was in this lifetime isn’t good enough for her, isn’t good enough for the unconditional love I feel from my daughter, isn’t good enough for the love Odette once had for me.I wasn’t good enough.I’m still not good enough. But I spend every day trying to be the person who would be deserving of them in this life, in hopes that, if I’m lucky enough to get a second chance, my soul meets hers in the next.”

“So, you spend your time trying to be a person who deserves her across all time and space?”

“Something like that.”

If only I had realized it sooner, but I am who I am because of it. And as much as I hate myself for who I’ve been and what I’ve done, I never would have become the man I am now.

“Don’t you think you deserve some credit in who you’ve become, Murphy?”

“No.”

“Maybe you should ask Odette that question. You might be surprised at her answer.”

He closed his notebook, and I thought a saw a brief tear in his eye.

“Until next time, Doc.”

I got up, closing the door behind me, wondering the entire way home if I should take his advice.

Chapter 33

Odette

Wynn plopped down next to me on the sofa that Susan had turned into a makeshift bed for me in her living room.

“Blink three times if you need me to bust you out of here.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her, even though it caused a searing pain in my side.

“Shit, sorry.” She winced at my pain and looked around. “Where is Murphy? I’m half shocked he isn’t telling me it’s time to go since I’ve caused you to laugh.” She held her hand up in mock terror.

Even though Murphy had been distant these last few days, he washovering,and I couldn’t help but recall our conversation from yesterday.

“Murphy, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re hovering.”

“I know.”

“Could you maybe loosen up the reins a little bit? I’m not made of glass… I can pee on my own.”

Imagine my horror when he insisted his mother accompany me on all bathroom trips, and I drew the line at letting her in the room with me. He finally looked over at me, which I could tell he’d been avoiding.

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