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She tosses me a snotty look but continues to ravage the poor omelet.
Since she’s occupied, I peel back the foil top on each of the creamers, pour, stir, and replace the lid on her coffee. She smiles her thanks, and the day brightens.
While she eats, I load our bags into the truck. My duffel is huge, her bag, quite small. She has precious little but the clothes on her back. I suppose we’ll have to deal with that eventually.
It’s a few minutes past noon when we hit the road. Yesterday’s gray and gloom have lifted, revealing blue sky and yellow sunshine. Either the weather change or a good night’s sleep has done wonders for the mood in the truck.
Glad at least one of us slept well.
I reach for my sunglasses from a small compartment above the rearview mirror. “You seem better today.”
“I guess. I feel alive this morning.”
It’s already afternoon, but I don’t correct her.
“I mean, it’s notsing-on-the-mountaintops kind of alive. More like, I-might-not-actually-expire-today kind of alive.”
I feel a smile.
“What’s this?” Annalise pulls a Styrofoam container from beneath the drop-down armrest.
“Oh, right, I forgot. It’s your pancake.”
“Really?” Her eyes brighten.
“Really. I left it in here so you’d eat the healthy stuff first.”
The eye-rolling champ is at it again.
Greedily, she spreads butter across the cold pancakes, dumps on every last dribble of syrup, and takes the same approach with the pancake that she used on the egg. Good to see her appetite is back.
A little while later, she’s cleaned up her mess and wiped her hands with a sanitizing wipe. She lowers the visor. Angles sideways. Sighs.
“There’s an extra pair of sunglasses in the glovebox.”
Popping it open, she sets the aviators on her nose. “Thanks.”
Dang.The woman is freakin’hot.
But I’ll be boiled in hot freakin’ oil if I allow myself to ever act on that again.
∞∞∞
“Ughhh, there’s nothing out here.”
Annalise flops back in her seat, sighing dramatically.
“Not much.”
“It’s ugly.”
“You think? I’m kind of partial to the nothingness myself.”
“I don’t see why. It’s so…barren.”
Despite myself, the word sends my mind back to that night at the hospital. She’s happy at the moment, so I hope her brain doesn’t make the leap, as well. Hope it doesn’t become her reality, either. She’s a woman who should be a mother someday—if she wants to be, that is. I think that’s the correct answer these days.
“You’ve got the windmills.” I point out the obvious, towering creatures as if they’re a plus on the landscape. Most would say they’re a blight. I have moments I agree and others when I’m downright fascinated by their soaring, spinning awesomeness.
