Forever: A Lobster Kind Of Love by Jody Pardo, Jennifer Tocheny

you want to know?”
    She looked up at me cautiously and cleared her throat. “Phone number?”
    I provide my digits and we continue.
    “That’s not a Maine number.”
    “Is that a question or a statement?” I snapped back.
    “I was just wondering why you would have an out of state phone number, that’s all.”
    “I spent the last year in a rehab center in New York City. I lost my phone at sea and I had a local provider at the time. When I got a new cell phone, the new cell service gave me a local number. Besides, who cares what the area code it is anyway? Everyone has cell phones these days. It’s not like anyone is going to be paying long distance charges or anything.”
    “Fair enough. Allergies?”
    “Penicillin.”
    “What happens when you take penicillin?”
    I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. “I get paralyzed.”
    She sat there with her mouth hung open as she stared at me. I chuckled at my own humor, but I had to hold my shit together if we were going to get through this. I was starting to see she took this whole patient history thing very seriously.
    “No, seriously, I’m allergic to Penicillin. I don’t get the whole itchy hive thing; my muscle fascia swells and last time, when I was around fifteen years old, I was hospitalized until they figured out what it was after a mild case of tonsillitis went awry.”
    “Okay, then. What medications are you currently taking?”
    “They had me on a lot of meds when I was inpatient, but I don’t take anything except a B12 shot and some vitamin supplements these days.”
    “Ryan, it says here you are on antidepressants, muscle relaxers, a sleeping aid and this one here is an anti-seizure medication." She slowly looked up to me as she points to the form.
    “I haven’t taken any of those for a while now. I told them I didn’t need them and they weaned me off all that crap before they released me back into the wild. I have some of those muscle relaxers just in case I get cramps, but I don’t take them. ” I paused for a moment, appreciating the humor that was just hitting me. “So what you're telling me is, according to that file, I’m a prescription junkie that wets the bed.”
    “Apparently, but I will update your file so they don’t start mailing you diaper coupons.”
    As we went through the rest of the patient history form, I corrected all the errors with her and she seemed more at ease. My stomach growled audibly. I glanced at the clock on the cable box and I realized two hours had already passed.
    “Do any of those packages you carted in my house happen to have anything edible in them?”
    “Just my sandwich. What do you want to eat? I can whip something up for you.” Her face gleamed bright at the idea of cooking.
    “I have no idea what is in the kitchen. I haven’t been home in a while. I suppose we need some groceries. Those Meals on Wheels people deliver.”
    “Let me go take a look and see what’s in the cabinets. Then we can make a list together and I will go grocery shopping. How’s that?”
    “Sounds good to me. So what kind of sandwich?” I winked at her.
    Smooth Ryan, real smooth. That was pretty fucking rude, but hell I’m hungry.
    “Nothing special. It’s just a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich with bananas.” She said as she holds up the neatly wrapped parcel of saran wrap.
    I extended my hand for a handshake as she stared at it for a moment and then wrapped her hand in mine. “Hello, my name is Ryan and I am a peanut butter addict. Thank you for coming today. I promise to be a good patient if you hand over half of that crack sandwich. I will pay you for it! How much? $5, $10…name your price.”
    Lydia just laughed at me as she carefully opened the plastic wrapped piece of heaven and handed me half of the sandwich. She lifted her half to her lips and took a bite. Her tongue darted out to catch a glob of jam that tried to escape down the side of her mouth; she caught it before it got to her chin. My