“It’s not going to be for long, Cora. Relax and just concentrate on getting better. This is just me being there for a friend and the mother of my child, okay?”
I swallow hard. “Okay.”
In the past, it’s always been exciting coming to Thomas’s house, but it’s different coming as a charity case. He walks around and opens the door for me.
“I’m okay,” I tell him when he attempts to take my hand to help me out. Physically, my body is okay, but emotionally, I don’t feel like myself. I feel lost, like a piece of wood cast adrift at sea.
I follow Thomas to the front door and wait while he fishes his key out and unlocks the door. A delicious smell hits me as soon as I enter, and my stomach rumbles with hunger. It’s a welcome sound. My appetite has been non-existent since the night of the fire. I’ve been forcing myself to eat, and when I’m unable, guilt follows, and I imagine my baby hungry in my belly.
I’m on a roller coaster of emotions, and I hate it.
“I got someone to come and cook us a meal,” Thomas explains. “Do you want to eat first?”
“Yeah. Sure. Thanks. You didn’t have to go to so much trouble. A sandwich would have been fine.”
“I wanted to do something special to celebrate you leaving the hospital.”
I smile. “Thanks.”
In the kitchen, Thomas opens the oven and pulls out a dish. He carries the food to the table while I set it up.
“Hey, sit down; you need a rest,” he says.
“I’m okay, I promise. Laying down on that bed has been driving me crazy.” It feels so good to do something, even if it’s as simple as setting the table. Everything is done for you at the hospital. While it’s wonderful when you’re sick, but when you’re well as I was, it’s a nightmare.
Thomas joins me at the kitchen table, and we spoon the food onto our plates. Mashed potatoes, meatloaf, and steamed vegetables.
“Absolutely delicious,” I tell Thomas after I swallow my first mouthful.
“They do a good job,” he says and tells me about the company that cleans for him and also provides other services like cooking if you like.
I clear everything on my plate and even get seconds. Hospital food is bland, although food was the last thing on my mind.
After lunch, Thomas insists that he’ll do the dishes and takes me upstairs. To be honest, my eyes are drooping, and I’m sure it’s just past noon.
Thomas stops in the upstairs hallway. “I put you in this room, opposite mine.”
Disappointment floods me. I had looked forward to spending the night wrapped up in his arms. He opens the door, and I follow him in. It’s a beautiful, spacious room, and the window looks out to the fenced-in backyard and beyond that, the woods.
I’m teary, and I keep my face hidden by looking out the window.
“Your stuff is in the closet,” Thomas says. “I’ll leave you to settle in. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“Thanks for everything,” I tell him.
The door shuts silently behind him. It’s silly and childish to expect that Thomas and I would share a bedroom. It’s different when I spent passionate nights with him as I would be gone the following day.
This is different. We both need our space. I need to shake myself out of this funk, and I must stop thinking of everything wrong in my life. I inhale deeply and turn away from the window. A bath would be lovely. Hospital showers are not the same as a home bath.
The bathroom is just as large and luxurious as the master bedroom bath. No shower for me today. I fill the tub and pour in some scented bath soak that I find on the side of the tub. I undress and step into the water. The temperature is perfect and hot enough to make my muscles relax but not so hot as to scald.
I lie down in the tub and slide down until I’m completely submerged in the water. I come up for air seconds later and spend the next few minutes scrubbing my body.
By the time I get out of the shower, I’m literally fighting to keep my eyelids open. I drain the tub, clean it, and after drying myself, pad back into the bedroom. I should look for something to wear, but I’m too sleepy. I slip into the cool bedsheets naked and pull the comforter up to my chin.
As I drift off to sleep, it ceases to matter that I don’t have my own home. Right now, all I feel is grateful that my baby and I have a warm place to sleep.
Chapter 30
Thomas
I’m straining to read, and when I look up from my book and out the window, the sun has already dipped behind the clouds, leaving only hints of orange that it had been there.