you knew a contraction, or in my case severe pain, was coming on, you took a deep breath and held it until the worst of it was over, then you exhaled slowly. I wasn’t sure I understood the science behind it, or if it was just the power of suggestion, but either way the results were pretty good, so I’d kept doing it. It wasn’t like it made the pain go away completely, or at all. But it made it manageable. Which at this point, I’d take.
When I walked into the bathroom, I saw that Olivia had gone to the trouble of laying out my clothes. Since I hadn’t had any clean clothes, that meant that she had to have washed and dried them. I also saw that my mirrors which, had been smudged and dirty were now sparkling clean and the stench of…well, me…that had been hanging out in the bathroom had been replaced with the freshness of Pine-Sol and Windex.
Olivia had cleaned my bathroom. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Or the fact that she’d broken into my house to do it. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time to contemplate it since I had a deadline.
Pre back injury, fifteen minutes would’ve been plenty of time to take a shower and get dressed. Post back injury, I didn’t have time to mess around.
I started the water and waited for it to heat up before stripping down. I stepped into the shower and lowered my head so the water hit down my neck and back. As I stood beneath the spray, the water massaging my soreness, I tried to remember when I’d showered last. It had to be going on two weeks.
It wasn’t that I hated being clean, it was just I didn’t see any point. I’d stopped going to PT because I couldn’t muster up enough will to drive there. I’d stopped going to yoga because I didn’t want to see Olivia. I’d bailed on a dinner at my parents’ house. And the past week or so, I hadn’t even had my backyard hang sessions with Channing.
I’d slept. That was about all I’d done.
In record time, which these days was just under fifteen minutes, I grabbed my cane from the side of the bed. On my slow decent down the stairs I noted that the fast food bags and beer bottles that had littered my coffee table and pretty much any flat surface had been cleaned up. The air smelled of cleaning products, the curtains had been pulled back, and there was sunlight streaming in.
When I reached the bottom of the steps, I found Olivia waiting by the front door. Channing was sitting beside her with his large tongue hanging out of his mouth. One of them looked happy to see me.
“Why did you clean up?” I asked.
“I think the real question is, why haven’t you?” She opened the front door.
Touché. I could tell that she was upset with me, and she had every right. I’d been a jerk to her at the surprise party and then I’d gone AWOL.
She started to open the door and I asked, “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
As I we walked out of the house, I caught a whiff of the berry and cinnamon scented lotion that she lathered on herself every morning. I inhaled and it hit me how much I’d missed her. I hadn’t meant to go this long without seeing her, it just sort of happened. I kept putting off seeing her because I wanted to wait until I wasn’t in such a dark place; I didn’t want to take out my shit on her again. One day turned into a week, one week turned into two weeks, two weeks turned into a month.
But it’s not like I ever stopped thinking about her. She was the first thing I thought about when I woke up, the last thing I thought about before I went to bed, and all the time I was awake in between.
I hated that she was upset, and I was the cause.
Hoping to break the tension between us, I joked, “I hope this isn’t another surprise party.”
“You don’t deserve another surprise party.”
Yep. She was really pissed.
“Olivia, I’m sorry—”
“Don’t.” She held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Not yet.”
She clicked the fob and her car chirped. Apparently, she was driving. I opened the passenger side door and Channing jumped in.
“Back.” I pointed to the back seat and he hopped back.