Page 73 of Just Like Starting Over
I’m ridiculously pleased by this. When she’s gone, I lie back in the bed and grin at the ceiling like an idiot. That she came changes everything. That she might give me a forehead kiss is cause for celebration. That we’re joking about wild monkey sex and showering together is reason to throw a parade. Her appearance gives me a reason to fight against this stupid virus that has worn me out.
It means she cares, even if it’s just a little bit.
And I’m enough of an optimist to believe that means there’s hope for us having a second chance.
Maybe the lady doth protest too much.
That surge of hope even has me doing as instructed. With more effort than should be required, I get out of bed and head to the bathroom again. I take that shower, making it hot, and scrub down. It feels good to be clean, a sure sign that I wasn’t. Brushing my teeth is a revelation.
Again, I’m amazed. Sylvia saw me like this and didn’t run screaming out the door. If anything deserves a reward, that’s it –and my sweaty laundry shouldn’t be her problem. I take the sheets off the bed along with all the dirty clothes and pile them into the washer, breaking every rule of laundry just as I do most weeks
It’s true that I haven’t exactly made the house a home, but I’m not a pig either. All those years of biology have given me a healthy respect for micro-organisms. You could eat off any surface in this house, even in the bathroom, even after the week I’ve had. Lauren who once accused me of joining Costco just for the discount on large volumes of household cleansers.
It was not unjustified.
The place might be austere, but it’s not dirty.
I find a clean pair of briefs and some shorts, a T-shirt, and then a hoodie, too. I practically need a nap after this marathon, but I head back to the kitchen instead.
I’m still a little unsteady on my feet, so I feel a lot better when I make it to the chair at the kitchen table. My phone has charged enough that I can listen to messages. The oldest one is from Sylvia – as I listen to it, I wonder if the sound of her voice will always make my day. She could give me directions to hell and I’d smile all the way there, just recalling the sound of her voice.
I have it so bad and right now I just don’t care. I can’t even think that’s a bad thing.
Because Sylvia came to check on me.
There are a bunch of messages from Dierdre and one from my Dad that I decide can wait, then I hear the Subaru parking outside.
I open the door for Sylvia and she smiles as she looks me up and down. “Better?” She’s carrying a lot of stuff.
“Much better. Give me that.”
“Not a chance. You go over there and sit down before you fall over.”
“Yes, boss.”
“You’re too big for me to pick up,” she says, pretending to be stern but there’s humour in her tone. She studies me as she unpacks a cooler, stacking food containers on the counter. “Your face looks thinner.”
“And my shorts are too big. I must be down a few pounds.” I shrug because it doesn’t matter. I’ll gain it back soon enough. “Looks like you might fix that.”
She’s unpacking enough food for a small army and my stomach growls at the sight. Yes, my mouth is watering, even before I realize all of this must have come from the café.
“Didn’t anyone check in on you?” She’s visibly outraged by this and her indignation warms my heart. There have to be worse things than being under Sylvia’s protection.
“Dierdre from the office. She came over Wednesday and hammered on the door because I didn’t show at work or pick up my phone. When I answered, she took one look at me and sent me back to bed.”
“And that’s it?” She shakes her head when I nod. “You could have called me.”
“I was too busy to call anyone.”
Sylvia looks up.
“Lots of bathroom time this week. I can tell you every single grout line that needs replacing. I compiled a list.”
“Your phone was dead. How’d you make a list?”
I tap my temple.
She smiles, then sets a bowl of hot soup down in front of me. It smells stupendous.
