took a couple deep calming breaths, willing my heartbeat
to regulate. When I felt I could successfully navigate the stairs,
I rose from the bed. The pain still throbbed in my head, slightly
lessened by the effects of the aspirin, but it was tolerable. I
clutched the handrail on my way down, feeling rather wobbly.
As I passed by the kitchen table, I noticed
that the bouquet of roses Eric had sent was missing. Matthew sure
did think of everything. I was certain that if I looked in the
trashcan, I would find the blooms there, vase and all.
Blake was already up and moving about the
kitchen. She looked in way better condition than I was. She was
wearing pajama pants and a spaghetti strapped tank, her long hair
piled atop her head in a messy bun. Even bare-faced, she appeared
as if she could walk a runway at a moment’s notice.
“Hey, the dead has risen,” she announced to
no one in particular.
“Good morning to you, too,” I said, my tone
suggesting anything but.
Blake slid a plate of scrambled eggs across
the breakfast bar and motioned for me to sit down.
“You don’t cook,” I said warily, lifting my
fork and examining the eggs. Surprisingly, they looked edible
enough.
“They’re eggs. I can handle those. I figured
you’d be starving.”
She glanced knowingly at me. Her face was
full of concern, but she lowered her eyes. She had no intention of
prying, or at least not until I had a few cups of coffee in me. As
if on cue, she pushed a steaming mug in front of me.
I ate, surprised by the appetite I had.
Within minutes, the plate was clean and I was working on my second
cup of coffee. Blake stood across from me the entire time, happily
serving me. I imagined that she had already eaten long ago, judging
from the late hour. In this context, her perkiness also made sense.
She was probably functioning on five or six hours of sleep. Not too
amazing, considering she was minus my broken heart.
“How was your date last night?” I asked,
purposefully directing the conversation towards her. Anything to
stall the inevitable.
She took my empty plate and placed it in the
dishwasher with a shrug. “Okay, I guess.”
“You don’t have to downplay it because of me.
I won’t think you’re gloating.”
“No, really, it was just okay. I worked at
the shop until about seven or so. Then I met the guy for dinner at
eight. We went to a movie and then back to his place for
awhile.”
My eyebrow raised. Doing the calculations in
my head, I understood that going home with the guy had occurred
either very late last night or early this morning. There was no
need to press for further details. As my father would say, if you
were just getting to someone’s place at that time of night, you
were pretty much there for one thing only.
“Are you going to see him again?”
“Probably not.”
While she seemed unphased, I practically had
to pick my jaw back up from the counter. I couldn’t imagine that
kind of lifestyle, to give myself in that way with no commitment
whatsoever. Of course, my experiences were clouded by being only
with Eric from the tender age of sixteen on. Hell, I got flustered
when Matthew called me “gorgeous” or “sweetheart”. I was
practically a prude. Blake, on the other hand, likely got hit on
all the time.
“Is our Blake a player?” I winked, feeling a
small glimmer of amusement. I latched onto it, the first ray of
sunshine I had seen in a long time. I needed a distraction.
“Your Blake isn’t going to settle down until
she’s positive she has found the right guy. Until then, there’s
nothing wrong with having fun with some of the wrong ones.”
She laughed, though it sounded a bit hollow.
She grabbed the coffee pot and refilled my cup.
Slowly, I was beginning to feel alive. The
food, the caffeine and the aspirin were working in tandem and only
a dull roar of a headache remained. I remembered that she, too, had
dated someone exclusively for about three or four years. She had
mentioned it was
to regulate. When I felt I could successfully navigate the stairs,
I rose from the bed. The pain still throbbed in my head, slightly
lessened by the effects of the aspirin, but it was tolerable. I
clutched the handrail on my way down, feeling rather wobbly.
As I passed by the kitchen table, I noticed
that the bouquet of roses Eric had sent was missing. Matthew sure
did think of everything. I was certain that if I looked in the
trashcan, I would find the blooms there, vase and all.
Blake was already up and moving about the
kitchen. She looked in way better condition than I was. She was
wearing pajama pants and a spaghetti strapped tank, her long hair
piled atop her head in a messy bun. Even bare-faced, she appeared
as if she could walk a runway at a moment’s notice.
“Hey, the dead has risen,” she announced to
no one in particular.
“Good morning to you, too,” I said, my tone
suggesting anything but.
Blake slid a plate of scrambled eggs across
the breakfast bar and motioned for me to sit down.
“You don’t cook,” I said warily, lifting my
fork and examining the eggs. Surprisingly, they looked edible
enough.
“They’re eggs. I can handle those. I figured
you’d be starving.”
She glanced knowingly at me. Her face was
full of concern, but she lowered her eyes. She had no intention of
prying, or at least not until I had a few cups of coffee in me. As
if on cue, she pushed a steaming mug in front of me.
I ate, surprised by the appetite I had.
Within minutes, the plate was clean and I was working on my second
cup of coffee. Blake stood across from me the entire time, happily
serving me. I imagined that she had already eaten long ago, judging
from the late hour. In this context, her perkiness also made sense.
She was probably functioning on five or six hours of sleep. Not too
amazing, considering she was minus my broken heart.
“How was your date last night?” I asked,
purposefully directing the conversation towards her. Anything to
stall the inevitable.
She took my empty plate and placed it in the
dishwasher with a shrug. “Okay, I guess.”
“You don’t have to downplay it because of me.
I won’t think you’re gloating.”
“No, really, it was just okay. I worked at
the shop until about seven or so. Then I met the guy for dinner at
eight. We went to a movie and then back to his place for
awhile.”
My eyebrow raised. Doing the calculations in
my head, I understood that going home with the guy had occurred
either very late last night or early this morning. There was no
need to press for further details. As my father would say, if you
were just getting to someone’s place at that time of night, you
were pretty much there for one thing only.
“Are you going to see him again?”
“Probably not.”
While she seemed unphased, I practically had
to pick my jaw back up from the counter. I couldn’t imagine that
kind of lifestyle, to give myself in that way with no commitment
whatsoever. Of course, my experiences were clouded by being only
with Eric from the tender age of sixteen on. Hell, I got flustered
when Matthew called me “gorgeous” or “sweetheart”. I was
practically a prude. Blake, on the other hand, likely got hit on
all the time.
“Is our Blake a player?” I winked, feeling a
small glimmer of amusement. I latched onto it, the first ray of
sunshine I had seen in a long time. I needed a distraction.
“Your Blake isn’t going to settle down until
she’s positive she has found the right guy. Until then, there’s
nothing wrong with having fun with some of the wrong ones.”
She laughed, though it sounded a bit hollow.
She grabbed the coffee pot and refilled my cup.
Slowly, I was beginning to feel alive. The
food, the caffeine and the aspirin were working in tandem and only
a dull roar of a headache remained. I remembered that she, too, had
dated someone exclusively for about three or four years. She had
mentioned it was
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