The rapping sound on my door jarred me out of my sleep. A soft purring sound next to me, followed by a gentle kneading, told me that Bootsy was not happy about being roused out of his sleep. I glanced down at my watch.
“Holy Bejeezus! It’s already 6:00.” I stood up quickly and yelped. Once the sudden pain from my ankle subsided, I said, “I’ll be right there.” I looked down at the leftover green bean bag that was now de-thawed and lying on the floor. I hadn’t intended to sleep for that long, but apparently, my body had decided after the trauma of walking up twenty flights of stairs, spraining my ankle, then being carried up two more flights of stairs, it was tired.
As I hobbled toward my front door, I tried to keep my weight off my ankle.
“Gurl, you look like a mess,” Johnny said as he breezed past me, carrying a bag with him.
Amani came right in after him. “Don’t mind him. You know how he gets when he’s hungry.” Then Amani looked me up and down. “On second thought, what happened to you?”
“Did Johnny tell you about the stairs incident?” Amani turned and looked at Johnny, who shrugged. “Well, do I have a story for you.”
“I look forward to hearing it while I cook. Johnny said something about other guests. Do we have a number?”
“It’s one or two. Depends on whether the elevators are working now.”
“They came online about thirty minutes ago,” Johnny informed me as he plopped down on the couch. I looked down to see Bootsy was playing with the thawed bag of green beans. He would pounce on it. Then knead it a few times, and pounce again.
“Any chance we can add green beans to the meal?” I asked. “They’re already thawed.”
Amani looked over to where Bootsy was still attacking the wet plastic blob. “Do I even want to know?” I hobbled into the living room and put my foot up again.
“Ah ha,” Amani said, finally seeing the noticeable limp. “I didn’t leave you walking like that this afternoon. What happened?”
“Well—“
“Before you answer that,” Amani cut me off. “For future reference, frozen vegetables are good for ice packs only if you use them for about twenty minutes and throw them right back in the freezer. As it stands, that gooey mess down there should not be refrozen. I’ll start a broth and make a vegetable stew with them and anything else I find in your freezer, so they won’t go to waste.”
“Why not just heat them now?” I asked.
“The thawing process takes out some of the moisture from the vegetables, which causes them to lose their appearance, taste, and texture.”
“Then you may want to include the mixed veggies bag in the freezer. I used them earlier.”
“Have you ever thought about buying a regular icepack, my dear?” Johnny said casually. I threw a decorative pillow at him that had the Phantom’s mask stitched into it. He caught it and hugged it to his chest.
“I would have to agree with Johnny,” Amani said. “Regular icepacks work better than vegetables, and they’ll stay frozen longer. Thankfully, I have one with me you can borrow.” Amani pulled an icepack from the freezer bag he’d brought with him. He came over and helped me place it around my ankle. I winced a little as he molded it to the shape of my ankle a bit harder. “But really, get one of these for yourself,” he said after standing up and looking down at his handiwork.
“I’ll put that on my shopping list. But as to this afternoon,” I started, and caught him up on everything that had happened since I’d run into him on the street.
At some point during my story, Johnny had rummaged through my cabinets and fridge, found a bottle of wine, opened it and made sure I had a glass in my hand as I completed the story. Between the wine and the drugs I’d taken earlier, I was definitely not feeling the pain nearly as much.
At 6:30, there was a knock at the door. I looked at Johnny, scrunched up my face, and pointed at my ankle pleadingly.
“Okay, drama queen,” Johnny said begrudgingly. “I’ll answer the door.” He stood up and limped across the floor like Quasimodo, over-exaggerating how painful it was for him to do anything that resembled manual labor. “Well, hello there, sailor,” he said as he opened the door to a very surprised-looking Kirk.
“You’re in the right place,” I yelled across the kitchen. “Ignore my manservant. He isn’t house trained yet.”
“I tried to train him,” Amani said from the kitchen. “Trust me, I even stuck his nose in his mess, but it didn’t work.”
“I’m right here,” Johnny said, coming back into the living room. “And you know you love me…and my messes.” Johnny pulled up behind Amani in the kitchen and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He then turned around and leaned against a kitchen counter where he could see Kirk and me.
“How’s the ankle?” Kirk asked, coming to sit beside me on the couch.
“It’s doing better. But that could be the medical-grade Ibuprofen or the wine speaking.”
“For some reason,” Kirk started, giving me a wary look, “I’m betting you’re not supposed to mix those two together.”
“You’re probably right,” I admitted as I took a sip from my wine glass. I shrugged and shot him awhat ya gonna dolook, and he smirked back. “Where’s Carissra? Is she joining us?”
