“Sure.” I do my best to smile back, but it’s hard when I’m grumpy.
Nothing is working out the way I planned.
Not my life. And certainly not the most important part… Becklyn.
26
Lucky
I waketo pounding and it’s not my head. It’s knocking. From my vantage point, I see the door. I know it’s about ten feet from where I’m currently lying on the couch. Ordinarily, I’d jump up and be there in a second, but not now. My body has been reclining on this same spot since I got home today, which means my muscles have tightened up, which also means my injury is going to hurt like a mother if I try to move. No, now I have to decide if the pain of moving is worth it. When the knocking starts again, I say, “Come in,” hoping like hell Joe didn’t lock the door.
My eyes are on the silver doorknob. If it turns, I know I’m going to be able to stay put. It does. Hurray.
“How’s the invalid?” the sweetest voice in the world asks from just inside my apartment door.
“Becklyn?” Swear to god, it’s a mirage.
“Yep. It’s me.” She’s smiling at me. I can’t believe it. Maybe Joe was right. If so, that makes him a fucking genius. Right now, the pain doesn’t matter. What matters is that it worked.She’s here.
I watch her move closer. She’s holding a dish. “You hungry? I brought you some soup.”
“Soup?”
“Don’t get too excited.Imade it, and I can’t cook like you.”
“I’m sure it’s great. It smells good.” No lie. It smells delicious.
“Chicken noodle. Mom’s recipe.”
I’ve had her mom’s soup before. It’s good.
“You hungry now, or do you want it later?”
My stomach growls loudly. “Now. Please.”
Becklyn makes her way into my kitchen. Setting the dish on the counter, she opens and closes several cupboards. “Aha,” she says, pulling down a bowl. Next, she finds a spoon and pours some of the soup into the bowl. “Gonna zap it in the microwave for a second.”
“Okay.”
All I’m doing right now is watching her. Staring, actually. I can’t believe she’s here. It feels like it’s been an eternity since the two of us have seen each other, let alone been in the same room. Sure, I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but it seems much longer since we spent serious time together. The memories of last spring when she stayed over at our place and I made her dinner come to mind. That’s the night she first boxed, and we watched a movie. A movie I’m pretty sure she hated but watched anyway. I’ve thought about that night many times. In many ways, it was the perfect date.
Hey.She thinks her first date was with what’s-his-name. I think it was with me, that night. Think I can convince her of that?
Probably not.
At least not right now. Maybe I’ll mention that down the road, after I’ve convinced her to give me a shot.
“Here you go.” I watch as Becklyn sets a steaming bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of me. Next, she pulls a baggy filled with saltine crackers from her jacket.
It makes me chuckle. “What else you got in there? A glass of milk?”
“Ha ha. No.” She glances back into my kitchen. “Speaking of… what would you like to drink?”
“I’ve got water here.” I point to my water bottle. “A spoon would be good, though.”
“Oh.” She giggles. “Duh.”
She jogs back into my kitchen as I pick up the bowl. Bringing it to my nose, I take a whiff. “Mm, smells good, babe.”
