I sat down on a chair close to the front door and proceeded to wait until the food I’d ordered arrived. I lost track of time, slipping in and out of consciousness. A soft shuffle at the door followed by a ding on my phone let me know my order had arrived. I glanced at the screen informing me it was ten-thirty.
Carefully and as quietly as I could, I shuffled to the door and retrieved the bag of cartons. Getting to the kitchen was slow progress as the bag creaked and rippled with every movement. But Ronnie didn’t wake up. She was probably exhausted, working, cleaning my house, and looking after me.
Another round of anger thrummed uncomfortably through my body and settled in my stomach like a ball of hot iron. Grounding my molars, I made my way into the kitchen and set the bag on the table. I got the oven going, setting it at a low temperature and arranged the ovenproof cartons of food inside. Bending over made me nearly faint as my head swam and my vision flickered. Grabbing onto the walker, I took several deep breaths and waited until I was sure I wouldn’t faceplant in my kitchen.
I plopped my ass in the chair, wishing it were my comfortable bed. The minutes ticked by, and I watched the shadows playing on the wall, feeling as if they were monstrous hands, slithering and grasping closer to ambush me. It was only a matter of time until they got me.
The jingle of keys sliding into the door let me know it was some time past midnight. Jere was finally home, and I waited patiently for him to go through the motions of taking his shoes off. Finally, he came into the dark kitchen and frowned at me.
“Were you emotionally scarred tonight?” I inquired. “Is your ass bruised from being groped by greedy fingers?”
“What?” He yawned and scratched the back of his neck.
“Never mind. I ordered dinner for you. It’s in the oven. I’d serve it to you, but my tank is running on fumes.”
His strides ate up the distance. He peeked inside the oven then returned his attention to me. His eyes darted all over my body as if he were searching for new injuries, before glancing at the walker by my side. He said nothing as he set the cartons on the table and popped them open.
“This looks yummy, but I don’t think you should be spending so much on a single meal right now.”
“You deserve it,” I said. “You shouldn’t be working to support me. Besides, I got my first disability payment. That’s how backlogged the state is, I guess.”
He surveyed the juicy steak, salted baked potato with cheddar and chives, and sauteed asparagus. It smelled delicious from where I was sitting and my stomach rumbled, not satisfied with the microwavable dinner.
“It’s one in the morning. Do fine dining restaurants operate this late?”
“I kept it warm until you got home. It probably won’t taste as good as it should if it were fresh. The steak is supposed to be medium, but I’m guessing it cooked through.”
His jaw ticked and he studied me for a long moment, his mental pegs sliding into the correct holes. “Danny, didn’t you promise not to do anything without help?”
I looked away, tears of frustration pricking my eyes. The idea I’d disappointed him was tearing me apart. “I used the walker someone sneakily bought and set up for me while I was sleeping. I was very careful.”
“Sounds like something I might say to get outta’ something.” The barest hint of a smile pulled at his lips.
“Isn’t that what it's for?” I snapped, that ball of iron going molten and jumping up my throat. “Or is it just decoration to remind me how shitty my life has become?”
Ronnie stirred in the living room, making a sound as she stretched.
“Please don’t tell her.” I pegged him with puppy dog eyes. I knew she’d feel guilty about sleeping while I stumbled around the house when I shouldn’t be.
“What’s this?” she asked between a yawn as she came into the kitchen. The walker next to me seemed to convince her nothing was afoot.
“Brought some food home,” Jere said without missing a beat. “Was hungry. I didn’t have time between being groped and hit on to eat.”
She tapped him lovingly on the arm then came over to kiss my check. “I’m going to head home. I’ll call you tomorrow. Er, later.”
When the front door thumped closed, Jere regarded me, and I could see the disappointment in his gaze. And the guilt that punched me in the sinuses was enough to deflate my anger. Jere was not a liar, and I’d asked him to fib for me.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m angry all the time. Seeing that walker set me off and I’m not sure why. Please don’t look at me like that.” I dropped my eyes to the table, feeling like I was five years old again and being admonished for doing something I shouldn’t.
He came to sit in front of me, his knees bumping mine. He did that thinking man impression again, his lips pursed in thought. “Doc talked about emotional changes in people with…”
Time stretched and when he didn’t say anything else, I frowned. “Say it. I need to hear it.”
He shook his head, his gaze on the hardwood floor. Now he was the one that was pissed off, his jaw ticking as his nostrils flared.
“Please? I don’t have the courage to say it. I need to hear it, Jere. I need to accept this is my life now.”
My heart hammered as I waited for the words to be spoken.
