“Yes.”
“I think I can make that work. See you in a bit?”
I nod.
By the time we’re done, I’m more than ready for a nap. Thethought of her coming over soon keeps me from falling onto my couch when I enter my condo. Instead, I go to clean the dishes left in the kitchen sink.
Being single and having someone make my meals means I rarely use the dishwasher. Yet right now I wish for the ease and familiarity of letting a machine do all the work. Since reading the buttons is a feat I don’t want to attempt right now, I squeeze some dish soap onto a sponge, hoping the amount is enough to cause suds. I scrub until I think the plate is clean, then use my hands to search for any residue before rinsing and repeating the same actions.
When there are no more dishes left, I dry my hands just as the doorbell rings. I navigate to the entry and open the door.
“Long time no see, Jabari.”
I crack a smile. “Hey, come on in.”
“Thank you. Do I need to take off my shoes?” Ms. McMillan asks.
“No.” Though I always do, I’m not going to make her do the same thing. Hopefully she’s not here long enough to get that comfortable.
“Okay. Why don’t you give me a tour? I want to see how you navigate in your home, see what furniture changes you may need, and anything else I can do to help.”
Should I tell her I already have the faded bumps and bruises to know where all the furniture is now? Keeping silent, I take her around the place and point to anything I believe is pertinent. Once we end up in my bedroom, I pause, waiting for further instructions.
“Well, it’s obvious that you’ve acquainted yourself with where everything is these past seven weeks. That’s impressive.”
“What choice did I have?” The words fall from me before I can stop them.
“You’d be surprised how many people would still be laying in their beds, not trying to live.”
My face heats. I hate that for them because I completely understand. Memories of my mom in that same position flicker throughmy mind. If it weren’t for the hope of getting back on the team, I might have ended up exactly like her. A jolt of awareness hits me.
“Let’s check out your bathroom.” Her footsteps click on the wood floors and the tone changes as her heeled feet meet tiled floors.
“Okay, so how do you tell the difference between the shampoo and conditioner?”
“One’s on the left, and the other is on the right. It was that way before.”
“Does that work for you? Because if not, I can put a raised dot on one, so you know just by feel which is which.”
That idea actually makes a lot of sense. “Let’s go with that.”
She goes through my whole house placing dots where she thinks I need them. One on each stovetop turn range, so I’ll always know where medium-heat is. Another on the number one on the microwave.
“Wow, your fridge is actually immaculate and well organized.”
“I have someone who cooks my meals.”
“Hockey player, makes sense.”
Not a hockey player for long.I still can’t believe I’ll be retiring soon, but that’s not something I need to dwell on right now.
Ms. McMillan goes over a few more things, leaving me with a plan of some items to purchase to help me out even more.
“You’ll get through this, Jabari. I’ll help in every way I can.”
When she leaves, my house is immediately plunged back into its usual silence. Before my injury, silence didn’t really bother me. Well, maybe it did, but there was always something to do to help me ignore the solitude. Now that Val’s been in my life, talking to her on a daily basis has pushed the loneliness aside.
Except my friend is going on a date while I’ll be stuck in the house. Will Fran do her makeup? Will Val wear a dress that makes her look like a ten? And what exactlydoesVal look like now? I have vague recollections of teenage Val, but I’m sure her look has matured. Other than her long hair and a general idea of herskin tone, I just can’t piece the details together.“She’s a full-on Monet.”
