Page 50 of If I Could


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“Not until seven. I couldn’t sleep and I got tired of lying in bed. I usually get up around five and watch TV until I have to get ready for work.”

“Here.” He hands me the remote. “There’s not much on other than informercials and the ag report.”

“Yeah, I don’t have money for cable.” I flip the channel to the ag report. “This may sound strange but I actually like the farm news. Sometimes they even give recipes.” I turn the volume up because he had it on mute. “Did I wake you up?”

“No. I was awake.”

“Did you get any sleep?”

“A couple hours.”

“That’s it? It was the floor, wasn’t it? I shouldn’t have asked you to stay. Now you didn’t get any sleep.”

“The floor was fine. And you didn’t ask me to stay. I offered. As for sleeping, I’m not someone who sleeps a lot. I’m lucky if I get more than a couple hours a night.”

“That’s it? How do you write on such little sleep?”

“Caffeine.” He chuckles. “Coffee is a writer’s best friend.”

“Would you like some now? I can make some.”

“That’d be great.”

I go to the kitchen and take out the can of coffee, then pull the coffeemaker out from under the counter.

“On second thought,” he says, getting up, “maybe I should go. You need to get ready for work.”

“I have plenty of time. And actually, I kind of like having someone to have coffee with in the morning.” As I say it, I realize it sounds like I’m asking him to be here every morning so I quickly say, “Maybe I should get a dog. They don’t drink coffee but they’re good companions.”

He comes over to the kitchen and sits down at the table. “I had a dog when I was a kid. His name was Lumpy because when we got him, he had all these knots in his fur which made him feel lumpy. We found him behind our apartment near the dumpster, looking for food. He didn’t have a collar so we assumed he was a stray. My father threw a fit when he saw him. He’s a neat freak and a germaphobe. He saw that dirty mutt and almost made us get rid of him but my mom somehow talked him into keeping it.”

I continue making the coffee, acting like his story is no big deal when actually it’s a huge deal. This is the first time he’s told me something about himself without me having to pry it out of him. Maybe the fact that he’s tired has his defenses down.

“Do your parents still have him?” I casually ask as I get some mugs out from the cupboard.

“No. He died when I was seven.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. Did they get another dog?”

“No. My father wouldn’t allow it. He hated that dog.” He clears his throat. “Anyway, what about breakfast? Can I make you something?” He gets up and goes to the fridge and opens it. “You don’t have eggs. I should’ve got breakfast stuff when I was at the store.”

I reach around him to get the milk. “Coffee is fine. You don’t have to make breakfast. I usually just skip it.”

“I could run down to that bakery you mentioned and get something.”

“Going into town would take too long. Plus, you’d have the whole town wondering who you are and where you came from. It’s better if I have Nina send your story through the gossipers in town so they at least have an idea of who you are, and then you can make an appearance.”

“Are you serious? I can’t just go in and buy donuts?”

“No. I mean, you could, but trust me, the other way is better.”

“Maybe it’s best if I just never leave the house.”

“That’d be worse. Everyone knows you’re staying at Miller’s house and they’ll want to know why. I’m sure they’ve already started rumors about you after they saw you at the grocery store. I’ll call Nina this morning and have her get the word out about you. You should be able to show your face in town in the next day or so.”

“That’s kind of ridiculous that people are so into other people’s business.”

“It is, but that’s just how it works around here. But your celebrity status won’t last. After a week or two, you’ll be old news.”

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