I was still sitting at the table when I heard the back door open and close. A few seconds later Luke entered. He had a different smell about him. I inhaled and immediately recognized what was off. “How are you feeling?” I teased.
He groaned. “How did you know?”
“All the cologne in the world can’t hide the distinct odor of stale alcohol.”
“I showered.”
“It’s clinging to you.”
“I’m sorry,” he groaned.
“Get some coffee. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m good.”
“You don’t sound good.”
He chuckled. “Your dad woke me up a little earlier than I was expecting. I have a minor headache but I’ll be fine once I get some coffee pumping through my veins.”
I listened as he moved around before coming to sit at the table with me. “Did you go out last night?” I asked, finding it a bit odd he would go out partying on a Monday night. Truthfully, I was a little jealous.
“Not really,” he mumbled. “Just hung out with a friend.”
I nodded, wondering if it was a male or female friend. Again, I had no right to be jealous, but I was. I wanted to know if he was seeing someone else. “At a club?” I pressed, trying to sound interested without sounding like I was interrogating him.
“No,” he answered.
I took another bite of my toast and washed it down with some coffee. Something was off with him. “Did Lisa make it to Texas okay?”
He sighed. “Yes. She texted and let me know she was there.”
He was not interested in conversation. I understood. He was hungover and needed some time to wake up and get his juices flowing. I decided to quit trying to have a conversation with him and just let him enjoy his breakfast in silence. The quiet in the room only magnified the tension between us.
“I’m going to shower,” I said, getting up from the table.
“Do you need anything?” he asked, always the dutiful caregiver.
I smiled. “No, I can do this on my own. I’ve already got my clothes laid out for the day.”
“Alright, holler if you need me.”
For the first time that morning, he sounded normal. The coffee seemed to work. I walked out of the dining room, hoping by the time I showered and got dressed for the day, he would be back to his old self. I really didn’t like him hungover.
I took my time in the bathroom. I wished I could put on makeup, but I was not brave enough to try. I was terrified I would end up looking like a clown or poke my eye out. Not that they were serving any purpose at the moment, but I would rather have eyes that didn’t work than no eyes at all.
Walking out of my room, I listened for a clue as to where he might have been. I heard nothing, and wondered if he had gone back to the cottage for something. I moved down the hall to the living room, and pausing in the entry, I listened and immediately heard the soft snores of a hungover man sleeping it off. I smiled and very quietly left the room and headed to the solarium.
I could feel the sun through the windows and knew it was a nice day out. It would be a good day for the beach. If my eyes worked, I would already be down there. I would be walking along the beach, enjoying the peacefulness before the day got going and it was flooded with other beachgoers. It would also be a nice day to paint.
Painting was probably the one thing that was really pulling at me. It was the need to see art and beauty that had me leaning towards the surgery. I could be alone in the world if I was able to paint and view art. I let myself get lost in thought, thinking about what I would paint if I could see. I thought about the art museum in New York that I loved so much. I thought about my plans to travel the world and collect pieces of art from artists no one had ever heard of before and open my own gallery.
I could do none of that if I couldn’t see the damn art. “Hey, sorry, I didn’t hear you come out of your room,” Luke said.
Turning my head toward him, I smiled. “You were taking a little nap. I’m fine. I was just sitting here and soaking up the sun.”
“We should work out,” he said, sounding less than enthused with the idea.
Laughing softly, I said, “I think we can skip a day. I don’t want you to drop a weight on your head.”