Murphy's Law (Roads Less Traveled Book 2) (34 page)

“I’m going to set you on your feet now, but lean against me, okay?” he said.

I braced myself for what I was sure would be an amusing fall. That fall never came. After setting me down feet-first, Michael wrapped his arms around me and Nancy (I could tell by the smell…she always smelled like cooking, Mia, on the other hand, always smelled like gun oil), steadied me with both her hands on my hips. I leaned my head back and away from his chest and tried out my sea legs. A little wobbly, a little weak, but otherwise not as bad as I’d expected.

“You okay?” He stepped back a bit and moved his hands to my shoulders, his eyes scanning my face, watching for any sign of pain or faintness on my part. His eyebrows were knitted together, causing that worry line that some of us are blessed with to wrinkle between them.

“Yeah, I think so.” I turned my head as much as my stiff neck would allow, and watched the two try to switch positions and pull the blankets from around me. That was the first chance I’d had to get a good look at my surroundings.

“Holy crap,” I croaked. “Nice bathroom.”

Nancy was in front of me now as Michael pulled the last of the blankets from around my legs. Everything was very shiny and clean, that was the first thing I noticed. The second was the chandelier that hung suspended from the center of the ceiling.

Well that’s just ridiculous.

“Alright, I’ll leave you girls to it.” Michael let go of my hips hesitantly, then stepped away when he realized I wasn’t going to fall into Nancy. I was still staring at the chandelier like a three year old.

“Okay, Mike. I’ll holler when I need you,” she laughed, shaking her head at me and waiting until he left before backing me up to the immaculate toilet behind us.

I blinked a few times, then fumbled with the sweatpants someone had apparently put on me while I was passed out. I was also wearing a fresh t-shirt.

How long was I out?

Nancy steadied me while I pushed them down, then helped me onto the throne.

“I feel like such a baby,” I said. There I was, a thirty year old woman unable to use the bathroom on my own, relying on a sixty-something woman to get me onto the toilet.

“Don’t be silly,” she said.

I suppose it was a combination of emotional overload and physical stress that made me suddenly tear up, because I know it wasn’t embarrassment. The woman had seen me worse than this before, so it wasn’t that. Instead of laughing at the situation, which would have been my customary reaction, I started to cry. It didn’t help that Nancy was petting my hair like a mother does with a sick kid.

“Oh I didn’t mean that, you’re not silly,” she said quickly, moving in front of me and leaning down to brush the hair from my face. “I’m sorry, don’t cry.”

She somehow got down onto her knees on the hard tile floor, no small feat for a woman her age, and was cupping my face in her hands. I was trying not to cry, but couldn’t hold it back.

“That’s not why I’m crying,” I said through subdued sobs. She frowned and tilted her head as she wiped my face, so I just closed my eyes and cried while I waited for her to understand.

Eventually she did, as all mothers and grandmothers do, and we sat there together, me on the toilet, her on the floor with her arms wrapped around me, our heads resting on each other’s shoulders, and silently wept together while my bladder finished its business. This little scene would have us laughing our asses off later. At the time it just wasn’t funny.

March 27
^th

Mia popped her head around the bedroom door. “Happy birthday, to you. Happy birthday, to you.”

“Shut up.”

The sun hadn’t been up for long. Not that it made a difference. It was one of those gray, foggy, stay-in-bed-all-day mornings. Mia was still in her pajamas and bare feet, her hair a mess, teeth undoubtedly unbrushed. She grinned at my morning crankiness, taking this as a good sign I was on the mend. I felt better than the previous night. Anything was better than being a human popsicle. I rolled over onto my side, curled the heavy blankets up around my neck, and hid my face with one hand.

“Happy birthday, deeaaarrrr Kaaassseeeyyy!” Here she paused halfway into the room for dramatic effect. “Happy birthday, to you.” Then she took three big steps, jumped, and plopped her ass down on the edge of the bed. This woke Gus, who snorted, rolled onto his back, and began snoring again.

“How do ya feel this morning, birthday girl?”

I had no idea what time it was, and this house was so big, I wouldn’t hear the standard morning stirring noises anyway. I’d also forgotten about my birthday. I know, that sounds ridiculous. End-of-the-World, Zombies-at-Your-Door, What-the-Hell-is-Going-On events have a way of making trivial things like birthdays the last thing on your mind.

“Ask me again in an hour. Go away.” My voice was muffled in the folds of quilt I had gathered around my face.

Mia leaned over, propped herself up on one elbow, and tried digging my face out from under the blankets. I squirmed and tried to get away from her, which only succeeded in producing several giggles from my annoying friend.

“You muuusstt get uuuppppp,” she groaned, trying to sound like Dracula or something. I groaned back and rolled away.

“Resistance is futile.”

“You’re an ass.”

“Aw, love you too, babe. Now get up,” she said and patted my hip. She stood and walked back to the door, opened it a crack, and peeked out into the hallway.

My joints were still stiff, my muscles, kidney, and face still ached, but I managed to wiggle my way into a sitting position. It was a little chilly in the room, nothing too uncomfortable. Apparently there was still heat in this big beast of a house, and dreary March mornings are chilly no matter what setting you keep the furnace. Just as I was about to slide out of bed and into the fluffy slippers someone had left on the floor for me, Nancy and Jake came tiptoeing into the room behind Mia. Nancy was carrying a cupcake with a candle in the center, lit of course. All three wore grins on their faces.

“What the…?”

Jake sat down at the foot of the bed, Mia crawled over me and sat cross-legged on the other side, and Nancy gently eased herself down on the edge next to me.

“Make a wish and blow it out,” she said.

I raised a brow and looked around at all their faces. They looked tired, haggard almost. But for the first time in I don’t know how long, they didn’t have that “Shit! Run!” sharpness to their eyes.

“Gee, you shouldn’t have.” I rolled my eyes, took a deep breath, and blew out the candle. All this fuss over my birthday was making me uncomfortable.

“Yay,” all three whispered, golf-clapping for a moment before falling silent again. After a few minutes of this, and of them staring at me like the top of my head was about to exlpode, I asked what the plan was for the day.

“Well, I gotta help the guys on that bigass wall they’ve been workin’ on,” Jake said.

I noticed he was acting strange. Shy and sheepish. Saying this behavior was strange for Jake would be an understatement. He had one hand resting on my foot, and his other hand was nervously picking at the hem of his shirt.

“Can’t say I noticed that last night,” I answered. I’d been a little too preoccupied with passing out and falling off my horse to notice a bigass wall.

Jake just smiled and dropped his head a little, breaking eye contact with me.

“Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not bein’ weird.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.” He looked to Mia and Nancy for help.

The only help they offered came in the form of smiles. It was then I noticed that Jake was taking this all a little too seriously, which told me there was definitely something going on with him. Whatever it was, it was obviously something he didn’t want to talk about, so I played it off.

“I’m just messing with you, Jakie. Who loves ya?” Then he blushed ten shades of red, and I knew we had a problem. Or a potential problem, depending on the point of view.

“I’ll be watching after the little ones for the most part. Me and whoever isn’t on watch or working on that wall,” Nancy piped up quickly to cut the tension that had fallen. I tore my eyes from Jake, a situation I really didn’t want to deal with just after waking up, and nodded to Nancy.

“Yeah and I’m on watch ‘til noon,” Mia said. I stared at the cupcake in front of me, wondering if there was coffee somewhere downstairs. Finally I sighed and leaned my head back against the headboard.

“So what am I doing then?”

Nancy tucked the quilt in around my sides. “Oh no, you aren’t doing anything today besides rest.”

“I can’t just lay in bed all day and do nothing, Nancy,” I answered back. She leaned closer and fixed me in a stern stare.

“You will lay in bed all day, or you can lay around the house all day, I don’t care. But you are not to lift a finger. I want you to rest up a bit more before you get back to work, got it? Besides, it’s your birthday.”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” I waved the cupcake around. “Well get out of here then, all of you.” I waved them all away and set the cupcake on the nightstand, then pulled the quilt back as they stood from the bed. Gus, who had been awake and waiting for someone to open the bedroom door, was off the bed like a shot. I wasn’t the only one who had to use the bathroom, evidently.

“See ya at lunch then?” Jake asked just as the three of them were walking out the door.

“If you’re buying,” I answered, shoving my feet into the stupid fluffy slippers on the floor next to the bed.

“It’s a date, Boss,” he grinned, then disappeared behind the door. I chuckled lightly, then shoved off the bed and headed to the adjoining bathroom.

* * *

An hour later I stood in front of the large parlor window, a steaming cup of coffee in my hand, and watched the guys work on the concrete block wall. The kids played in the den behind me, Abby and Nancy clattered around in the kitchen, and Gus ran back and forth between the three rooms, too nosy for his own good, and too old to keep running from one side of the house to the other.

Some things never change
.

I took another sip of coffee, watching the guys lay up another course of block, and contemplated all the things that
had
changed since my last birthday.

“Everything except my dog…” I sighed and closed my eyes, but before that broken down, hollowed-out feeling could settle into my guts again, little Sam broke away from the other kids and ran over next to me.

“Hey, Miss Kasey,” he panted.

“Hey, Sam.” He looked up at me and for some reason, reached up and started rubbing my back. It was so cute I had to laugh. “What do you need, little man?” I asked.

His face turned serious as he looked out the window. We watched the men across the golf courses work for a long quiet moment before he finally spoke up.

“I don’t need anything, just wanted to stand here with you for a little bit. Can I?”

He actually looked like he was expecting me to say no. Made me wonder how his parents had treated him. Probably like a nuisance, judging by his behavior and self-sufficiency. I smiled again and squeezed his little shoulder.

“Sure, why not. Got nothing better to do, right?”

I made small talk with him, asked about breakfast and about the other kids, the sorts of things that interest a kid his age, making sure to avoid any topic that might remind him of his old life. We talked long after my cup was empty, so he followed me to the kitchen for a refill. Then he followed me back to the window, talking the whole time. When we passed the study, I thought I heard chatter on the radio, but it was faint and Sam was flapping his jaws, so I didn’t think much of it.

After another hour of watching the men work, and listening to Sam talk, I decided to give my eyes and ears a break and go back to my room.

“See you at lunch, Miss Kasey!” Sam yelled and ran through the living room, trying to catch up with the others, who were apparently in the middle of a rowdy game of Tag.

“Later, Sam,” I called after him.

Halfway up the stairs I heard Nancy yelling at the kids to slow down and get out of the kitchen before someone lost an eye. Gus had also had enough; he caught up with me at the top of the stairs with his tail between his legs. I let him lead me to our room. The place was like a maze, and I hadn’t really paid attention when I went downstairs for coffee earlier. I discovered that my room was at the end of the western hallway. It probably wasn’t called the “western hallway,” but that’s how I kept it straight in my mind.

I didn’t flip the light on after shutting the door behind me. It was mid-morning and the curtains had been pulled back, so the room was bright enough already. To be honest, I really didn’t know what to do with myself. I knew what I wanted to do. The problem was it wasn’t what I
needed
to do. How often are we reminded of the difference between the two? I stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the furniture, noticing my guns and ammo next to the door, and waited. For what, I don’t know. The next shoe to drop? Possibly.