CHAPTER FOUR

        “No, Mom. I-I –” I shove my fist into my mouth, biting down hard. I don’t know if I want to cry, or scream right now. “I can’t go on like this.”

        “I know, sweetheart, but you must,” murmurs my mother, sounding rather distant and uncaring. “Things will get better with time. You’ll just have to trust me on this.”

        Really? “When?” I ask, choking back a sob.

        “I don’t know, but –” she pauses. “Look Hun, I’ve got to go. The kitchen timer just went off for the roast beef; and if I don’t get to it now, before your father does, the members of my book club won’t have much to snack on later tonight.”

        The line goes dead shortly thereafter, and for the next few hours I lie on my bed – the one I shared so many nights in with Dan. If I close my eyes, and concentrate hard enough, I can still catch the faint waft of honeydew and mint – his signature scent. It calms me, giving me some temporary respite from all my pain and suffering.

        Somewhere along the way, I fall into a daze. In my daze, I’m taken back to a time where Dan was very much still alive. It’s also takeout Thursday and, according to tradition, Dan’s brought home with him some Chinese takeout after having just worked a double shift. From the smell of things, he’s brought me my favorite – chicken on a stick, fried rice, and fresh spring rolls.

        I glance up at him as he enters the room, trying my best not to stare at him too hard. If I do, and he notices, some choice words will be exchanged; and we’ll wind up having an argument, which is something I don’t need right now. So instead, I focus on this week’s issue of People magazine.

        I get halfway through the first article when Dan drops a few greasy bags of takeout in front of me. They fall onto the coffee table with a small splat, the force of the impact causing the degraded brown paper to crumple inward on itself. I nearly jump a little from the noise.

        Tossing my magazine to the side, I look up at Dan just as he’s shrugging off his thick work shirt; revealing a long torso layered with the perfect amount of muscle, chest hair, and sweat. If it weren’t for the filthy undershirt encasing it all, I feel I might’ve lost my breath.

        In an effort to distract myself from these troubling thoughts, I ask him, “So, Dan, how did your day go?”

        “It went alright, I guess,” he replies, sighing a big sigh of relief as he collapses next to me on the loveseat. “Yours?”

        “It was… interesting.”

        “Really? Why?” he grunts as he tugs away at the strings of his grimy work boots. “What happened?”

        I grit my teeth. “Oh, nothing important.”

        “Seriously?” he asks, looking at me with sheer discontent in his eyes as he shifts his focus from his half-untied shoes to me. “I thought we’d agreed to never lie to one another again.”

        “We did,” I sigh, refusing to look him in the face. “It’s just… your mother called earlier today, and I didn’t want to –”

        “What did she want?” he asks, his voice growing distant.

        “She wanted to know if she could have lunch with you tomorrow.”

        “What did you tell her?”

        “I told her, ‘No’.”

        “Good,” he says, returning his attention to his shoes. “The Good Lord knows deep down that I love that woman, but I can’t stand to be around her right now. Not after everything she’s put us through.”

        That breaks my heart. Placing my hand on his back, I murmur, “I know, Dan. I know.”

        He lets it rest there for a minute or two while he finishes wrestling his shoes off. Once he’s done with that, he shrugs them off along with his dingy workpants; giving me an up close, and very personal, view of his lower midsection. At least he decided to wear underwear today.

        With a rather sly grin, and another grunt, he hauls himself back onto his feet. He then turns to face me, and asks, “Hey, do you mind doing me a favor?”

        Deciding it best to just go with the flow, I respond with a simple, “Sure thing. What’d you need me to do?”

        “Wash these clothes for me while I take a quick shower?”

        “Alright. Sounds simple enough.”

        “Great! Thanks.”

        Shortly after that, we part ways. While Dan heads towards the back, removing the last of his clothing as he goes, I head towards the kitchen. Along the way, I make sure to grab the various articles of his clothing with my one hand, and our dinner with my other.

        As soon as I reach the kitchen, the first thing I do is get the laundry going; making sure to fill the washing machine with enough stain-removing detergent to revitalize any third-world hospital, let alone Dan’s work clothes. Once I’m through with that, I set my sights on the Chinese takeout; knowing full well that it’ll take no time at all to heat everything up.

        Right as I finish pulling the last of the takeout containers from the microwave, Dan comes waltzing in with nothing more than a towel on. Now that he’s squeaky clean, he looks like a completely different person.

        “Need any help with anything?” he asks, giving me a picture-perfect smile.

        “Um…, nope. I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything taken care of here. Thanks for asking, though,” I say as I rummage around inside the utensil drawer, eventually unearthing a clean pair of forks.

        “All righty then. If that’s the case, I guess I’ll just wait for you in the dining room,” he says, giving me a gentle peck on the cheek before leaving.

        It’s an unexpected gesture considering how well our last encounter went, but a nice one nonetheless. So, instead of shrugging it off, like I’ve been doing a lot lately, I decide to just accept it for what it is; even going so far as to allow the blood to rush to my cheeks.

        Seeing me react this way earns me another sly grin from Dan. I think I can even hear him let out a nice, light-hearted chuckle before he finally steps out of the room, though I can’t be entirely sure about that. I haven’t heard him chuckle in so long.

        That brings up some very bad memories, so I decide to distract myself from them by spending a few extra minutes rustling up some fine chinaware and napkins. Once I have everything I need in tow, I start the rather short process of transferring everything from the kitchen counter to the dining room table; trying my best to ignore Dan without actually ignoring him. When that doesn’t seem to work, I bury my face in the fridge; allowing the cool air to calm my mind long enough for me to gather my wits.

        “Hey…! Is everything alright?” shouts Dan, sounding genuinely concerned. I’m grateful for that, but I don’t want him to come rushing to my aid anytime soon, so I think of something clever to say.

        “Yeah! Everything’s fine!” I shout back. “I just forgot to grab us some drinks is all!”

        “Oh, well in that case, do you mind grabbing me a Pepsi? I’ve been craving one all day.”

        “Sure thing.”

        By the time I return to the dining room table, Dan looks worried. He doesn’t reach out to me immediately, but when he does, he asks me, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

        “Yeah. I’m fine. I promise,” I say, making sure I look him square in the eyes before continuing. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

        He seems to believe me when I tell him this, which is a good thing because I am starving right now; and I’d much rather spend the next few minutes scarfing down a spring roll than I would having yet another meaningless argument with Dan.

        From the look on his face, I can only assume he’s thinking the same thing, which explains why we don’t say much to one another until we’re more than halfway through our meal. Even then, it comes as a bit of a surprise to me.

        “So,” murmurs Dan in between bites of fried rice. “Did I ever tell you about what happened over in Corridor D the other day?”

        “Um, no,” I mumble. “Why? What happened?”

        Waving his fork through the air ever so nonchalantly, Dan rolls his eyes and huffs before saying, “The gravity supply lines ruptured again.”

        “Seriously?” I ask. “But that’s like what… the fifth time this month?”

        “Yeah. I’ve been dreading tomorrow morning ever since I got the news.”

        “Really? Why? I thought you and your crew had the whole day off tomorrow?”

        “Oh, we do,” he says, sounding grim. “Or at least I thought we did, but in lieu of the ruptured lines, there’s been talk of them calling us all in tomorrow.”

        “Well, that blows,” I mumble. Not knowing what else to do, I cram an entire spring roll into my mouth before chasing it down with half a can of Pepsi. Once it feels like I’m not going to gag anymore, I sulk in silence for about a minute and a half; letting the time freely pass me by as I twirl my fork around on my mostly cleared plate.

        Across the table, Dan acts as if nothing’s wrong; and even though that really irks me, I don’t let it show. Instead, I just sigh; letting my gaze fall to the table while I rest my fork next to my plate.

        It’s while I’m doing this that he reaches out to me again; this time by placing his free hand on top of mine. Flabbergasted, I want nothing more than to smack it away when he asks the unthinkable, “What’s wrong?”

        “Nothing. It’s just… tomorrow was the first day you’ve had off in over a month now, so I thought I’d surprise you by taking you somewhere special.”

        “Really? Like where?”

        “The aquarium,” I huff. “I heard they just got done renovating the lower levels.”

        “Well, the surprise might be ruined, but we can still go,” he says, pleading with me. “If I have to, I can always take a personal day.”

        “Alright. I guess that’ll work.”

        Looking up at him, I can see emotion – real emotion – in his eyes. I can feel it in the grip of his hand, and hear it in his voice when he goes on to ask me, “What ever happened to us?”

        Looking back down, I murmur, “I don’t know, but it’s getting pretty late; and if we don’t get our butts into bed here soon, we won’t be doing much of anything tomorrow.”

        Before the conversation can go on any longer, I get up from the table without so much as offering to help clear it. Not that it matters. I never get any help when it comes time for me to perform my nightly duties, and neither should Dan.

        Knowing that it’ll take him a good five minutes or so to clear everything away, I decide it the perfect time to slide into the shower. Unfortunately, I wind up staying in there a whole lot longer than I had originally planned on. So, by the time I finish drying off, and find something comfortable to slip into for the remainder of the night, Dan’s already facedown under the covers.

        When I slide in next to him, I feel his arm instinctively wrap itself around my waist; drawing me in close. Luckily for Dan, I’m too exhausted to protest.

        In fact, it’s not long after I come to this realization that I nod off; aided, at least in part, by the sheer amount of heat emanating from Dan’s ginormous body.