He had me sit at the table while he pulled out a casserole dish and threw it in the oven. Then he put the kettle on, prepping two mugs with tea.
While we waited, he came back over and sat with me bringing milk and sugar, then taking one of my hands in his, leaving me with one to hold my pillow.
I had a hard time making eye contact with him, which seemed silly, but my emotions were everywhere and nothing made sense to me.
Was grief supposed to be this awkward?
He finally broke the silence by saying, “We’ve had a lot of visitors. Which is where that casserole dish came from. You should see the ice box,” then he made a slightly goofy face. “I even had to store some at my place. You’d think people thought I can’t cook or something.”
“You can’t,” slipped out in response, not knowing where it came from.
“Hey,” he shot back laughing. His smile warmed me and the frozen state I was in. Maybe he can thaw me out, so I don’t have to figure out how to do it myself. He was rubbing his thumb over my knuckles, sending tingles through my hand. The kettle started to whistle, so he let go and got up to pour our tea.
As he sat back down, placing our cups on the table, he asked, “Do you want to hear any updates about anything yet? Or would you like more time? There is no rush. Just know I have it all handled with help from Tom, David, Betty, and the boys from The Underground.”
That was something to think about.
What kind of updates could there possibly be, other than anything about my dad’s services. I sat there in silence for a moment thinking about it when Jimmy continued, “Why don’t you eat first and decide later,and I will tell you about my update on what I have planned for me, yeah?”
I nodded, then blew on my hot tea and took a sip. It felt really good. The heat and the moisture in my throat. “So, one of the times Tom came by, he asked when I thought I would be ready to come back to help with the cleanup. Not to pressure me, but just to get a time frame. I told him I wouldn’t be back, and neither were you. We both got other offers. I had been on the fence, but this pushed me off and into the neighboring yard, so to speak.”
“Really,” my voice was monotone. I didn’t know how to feel. I think I should be happy for him, but my brain was having a hard time processing this information.
Jimmy took my hand again and squeezed. “Really. That paperwork you saw me going through in there was my separation agreement. Tom also brought yours, for when you are ready, but said there wasn’t any rush and would continue processing your pay for you until you turned it in,” winking at me.
I was nodding, taking it all in when the timer for the food started to buzz. Jimmy jumped to serve us. It was a beef lasagna casserole from Betty, apparently. It was delicious, but I couldn’t get much down. Only about a fourth of what was on my plate. I was staring at it when Jimmy said, “Honey, it’s okay. It’s normal to not have an appetite. Don’t worry. I’ll save it for later.” He leaned over and kissed my temple.
He finished his meal and cleaned up. Then he suggested we take a shower, which made me realize that I smelled.
Unbelievable.
Thankfully, Jimmy got in with me, washed and cared for me in my partial mentally conscious state.
After, we went back downstairs and cuddled on the couch while he finished what he was doing when I came down, me still with the pillow.
While laying there with my head in Jimmy’s lap, my eye caught my name on a page that was sitting on the table, so I reached for it. It was page one of my separation agreement, with the date blank. I wouldn’t have read it fully if the wordpayouthadn’t caught my attention.
I sat up, startling Jimmy, reaching for the rest of the papers. I started to read more thoroughly until I got to the part I was looking for. My eyes blew wide, my mouth dropped open, the papers falling out of my hand in shock.
“What? Charlie? What’s going on?” Jimmy’s voice sounded like it was coming from a distance away. Quiet and muffled. He scooped up the papers I dropped. I turned to him, my system was misfiring, waiting for him to see what I had just seen. His eyes blew wide, “Holy shit!”
There it was.
He shuffled through the stack, putting them back in order and started reading from the beginning. I could see his eyes scanning each page before he flipped to the next, taking in all the details until he got back to the part that got the reaction, “Holy shit.” He turned to me in disbelief.
Yeah, join the club.
“They are giving you ten-thousand dollars in your separation agreement if you sign that you won’t sue them for your trauma and your father’s–,” before he cut himself off.
My mind was going a mile a minute.
Does that mean if I don’t sign, I could try to sue?
But where would I get the money for a lawyer even if I wanted to?
And if I lost, then I’d get nothing.
What should I do?
