Page 76 of Last Light

The water is plenty warm but not scalding hot. I don’t care. It feels so good I stand under the spray and shake with emotion.

It’s been years since I had a hot shower.

I wash my hair and scrub down my body and then stand there and enjoy it.

If I had a razor, I could even shave. I haven’t shaved since the power plant fell. Most women I know don’t either. It’s one of the luxuries that we lost with everything else.

I decide I don’t really care that much.

Having smooth legs and bare underarms was nice, but shaving was always a pain.

Travis doesn’t seem to mind the hair. He seems to like my body just fine as it is.

I don’t have a razor anyway, unless I want to try to use Travis’s straight-edge one.

I really don’t want to do that.

Mostly I’m just thrilled to feel genuinely clean.

When the water gets cooler, I turn it off and get out. I wrap up in one of the towels folded on a shelf. All my clothes are dirty, and I don’t want to put them on. So I go to look in the closet of the bedroom and find a big plaid cotton shirt worn soft from age. I button it up and glance down at myself.

It almost reaches my knees. All I need to do is roll up the sleeves and I’ll be fine in it.

I comb out my hair and leave it loose and wet as I go find Travis in the kitchen. He’s propping himself against the counter, giving the pot of stew a slow stir on the small stove.

“Smells good!”

“Tastes good too.” He turns to look at me and grows still. Something heats up in his eyes.

I glance down at myself self-consciously. “I found it in the closet. At least it was clean.”

“Yeah.” His voice is hoarse.

“Why are you looking at me that way? I’m totally covered.”

“I know you are. Don’t matter. You’re sexy as hell.”

I blush and roll my eyes at him. Then I get dishes out for our meal.

We eat at the small dining table. I don’t like the beer, so Travis drinks it all. The stew is delicious, and the crackers are a real treat. Crunchy. Salty. Bready.

We haven’t had anything like that for a long time.

The brownies are done when we finish. They’re not the same as brownies I remember, but they’re chocolate.

Chocolate.

I’m in a happy daze when we clean up and brush our teeth. Travis stays in the bathroom to take his shower.

I don’t have anything to do. I’m content and exhausted and clean and full.

So I get in bed and wait for him.

He takes a long shower just like I did, and when he returns, he’s just wearing his underwear. I’ve locked up and turned off all the lights except the lamp on the nightstand so he can come right to bed.

“Lie down and let me wrap your ankle up again,” I tell him, moving to my knees on the bed. I’m on the side by the wall, so Travis lies down on the other side with a soft groan. “You’ve done too much with it. It’s never going to get better if you don’t rest it.”

“Didn’t have much choice.” He sounds tired.

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