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“If you don’t mind.” I watch her, and she shrugs, handing over the brush.
I lift it and begin at the ends, untangling it carefully so I don’t pull her hair out.
She goes back to brushing her teeth, and I work higher and higher, moving in wide swaths and placing each section over her shoulder when I’m done with them.
Lenore finishes brushing her teeth and reaches for a glass to rinse. In the mirror, I see her eyes droop closed and feel the exhaustion seeping out of her.
I finish the last bit of her hair and set down the brush. I can’t resist raising my hands to her shoulders and gently massaging the muscles. I have next to no experience doing this, but even I can tell that she has knots upon knots from long-term stress.
She moans, and her head sags forward. “Jesus. You’re good at that.”
She braces her hands against the counter and leans her hips against the edge to support herself. I use the pads of my thumbs to release some of the knots in her neck before sliding my hands down her arms and lacing my fingers with hers. I lean forward and kiss the spot I was just massaging.
“I’m going to leave you alone so you can change.”
I squeeze her hands and let them go, stepping back and away. I hear her changing, and then she steps through the door in her pajamas, hair twisted up into a loose bun.
“All yours.”
I scoop up my duffle bag. This morning I’d been hopeful about staying over for a different reason, but I’m willing to take whatever parts of her life she wants to give me. I quickly shave and change into the extra basketball shorts I brought along. Not really caring if they get wrinkled, I haphazardly shove the dress clothes into the bag and zip it shut, kicking it under the sink, knowing I’ll need the toiletries tomorrow.
Lenore has already turned off the upstairs lights, and Norm has joined us. His little body is curled against Lenore’s ankles, or what I think are her ankles, under the covers.
She pats the empty side of the bed and folds back the comforter, inviting me in without words. I cross to that side of the bed and slip in between the cool sheets. They’re luxuriously soft, and I wonder if she picked them out or if they’re part of the cabin’s appeal.
She turns and cuddles into my side, slipping her leg over mine and her arm around my torso. Norm grumbles about the movement before settling back into the deep sleep unique to cats. I adjust the arm she’s using for a pillow and lace my free hand with hers, gently kissing the top of her head and holding her close.
“Try and get some rest.”
She grumbles and snuggles closer, already nearly unconscious. I lie awake for a long time, thinking about the handful of days since I met her and feeling like it’s been more than just five days.
I let the quiet sounds of night in the country lull me into a half-sleep. Just as I’m about to completely nod off, a loud pounding sounds from the front door.
Assuming Lenore doesn’t get many visitors, my body tenses, unsure of what to expect. Groggy from all of today’s events, Nore half lifts her head and looks toward the stairs.
“Is someone knocking?” she mumbles against my shoulder.
“You want me to go check it out?”
Awareness slowly brings back her usual caution, and she nods as I slip out of bed.
“If it makes you feel safer, lock yourself in the bathroom until I get back up here.”
Now fully awake and verging on panic, she slips from the bed, and I watch as she shuts herself in the other room. Hearing the lock click, I stand and swiftly make my way down the stairs, cursing the track lights that awaken as I move down. Whoever is at the door can definitely see it and know someone's coming.
Reaching the foyer, I stick to the shadows and slide to the side window to see who’s out there. Shock fills me when an older woman, who looks like an aged version of Lenore, is illuminated by the porch lights.
Deciding she probably isn’t here to rob the place, I turn on the inside lights and unlock and open the door.
Hand still raised to continue pounding, she almost smacks me in the chest.
“Who are you?” She eyes me with no small amount of disdain.
“Matt Song, ma’am. Who are you?”
Before she can answer, I hear Lenore gasp from the top of the stairs, “Mom? What are you doing here?”
“I told you I was coming up to deal with things.” Looking back at me with hawk-like attention to detail, she asks, “What are you doing here?”
