Page 87 of Mangled Memory
“We’re making omelets at Ci’s. How far out are you?”
“Too far out to make it for dinner, but not so far I won’t see you tonight. If you make an extra omelet, throw it in the microwave for me?”
“What do you want in it?”
“Whatever you’re putting in yours. See you in a bit.” Liam clicks off before I can tell him I love him or to be safe.
I stare at the phone in my hand as if it will reconnect me to my brother before finding Cian looking at me. “He’s a ways out. No clue when he’ll be here… He didn’t say. But he asked us to make him an omelet for when he gets here.”
My brother turns back to the stove and dual wields his spatulas, eventually sliding the beautiful golden egg concoction onto a plate before returning to the pan and dropping more eggs with a sizzle. “What does he want inside?”
“Everything we have it sounds like.”
“Plus jalapeños. Mind grabbing those from the fridge?”
I do as I’m asked and wordlessly rinse and chop a pepper on the cutting board, avoiding it touching the good stuff.
“I swear he’s burned off his taste buds.”
Ci laughs, but says nothing as he works on the second omelet. “We’re good for you to drop the toast.”
I do. We work in tandem until he slides the second plate onto the island and we land, side-by-side, to dig in.
“I’m not crazy, Cian.”
“Never thought you were, Ayla.”
“So how do we fix this? I don’t need a caregiver. Yeah, I have some dark patches in my memory, but I’m not incapacitated. Surely a judge can recognize that.”
He takes a long sip of his orange juice and looks thoughtfully toward the back window. “We’ll figure it out. Promise.”
I wish he’d say more. But he’s said it all anyway. We don’t know. But I’m not deficient. And he’s on my team to figure it out.
He stands as I finish my last bites and returns to the stove, starting the burner while cracking a few more eggs. He whistlesas he makes the last omelet, piling it full of everything we had left, plus the peppers and a little more meat he had in his fridge.
When he’s satisfied with it, he slides it onto a plate and places it in the microwave, before proceeding to scrub the pan and throw the plates and glasses into the dishwasher.
“Want to watch a movie?” His gaze is on mine via the reflection in the window.
“Nah. I think I really just want to sleep. I’m wiped from today.”
He nods thoughtfully and turns, propping a hip on the counter near the sink, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “He’ll come back.”
“And he can kiss my ass.”
A small smirk plays on my brother’s lips. “At least he’s getting pissed-off, fighting Ayla.”
“Is there another one?”
He folds the towel and places it near the sink. “No. Only the one.”
“I’ll let Liam know you went to bed early.”
“Thanks, Cian.” I round the island and wrap him in a hug. “Do I get Eleanor for the night?”
“As if I could do anything to change that.” He kisses the top of my head before releasing me.
I wander toward his guest room and slide out of most of my clothes before piling under the heavy, thick covers and rolling toward the windows. The smells and the sounds are wrong. This isn’t my bed or my home. And for those reasons, I love it all the more and curl into a ball on my side.
