Page 21 of Claiming What's Mine

She was examining me, her eyes scanning my face as she glanced between her tools and the damage to my skin. “You can't leave it like this, we need to clean it.”

Picking up the cream from inside the kit, I looked it over. “This expired four years ago.”

“So? It's not rancid, it's just old. My mom says that medicine doesn't really go bad, it just loses its potency. We'll use a little more than it says, that's all.” Stepping to the fridge, she opened the freezer and took out the ice tray. Dumping a handful of cubes into a wash cloth, she twisted the end shut and set it on my forehead. “Here, hold this right here and don't move it.”

Following her directions, I watched her. She looked different that day. Her hair was more shiny, her skin was glowing, and her cheeks were flushed a light shade of pink.

It could have been that she was running around my house, on a first aid treasure hunt, but she even smelt different, like that first day in spring where all the flowers open at the same time, and the air becomes more than just oxygen.

Taking an extra breath, I inhaled her deep into my lungs, allowing her scent to fill me. My muscles began to buzz lightly, my throat became dry and chalky. I felt like I wanted to kiss her, but I could—wouldn'tever do that.

Blue was my friend. Period.

Dabbing the end of another wash cloth into a bottle of alcohol, she held my chin with her fingertips. “This is going to sting,” she said, setting her eyes on mine.

“I can handle it.”

“Mm hm,” she mumbled as her eyes moved back to my forehead. “We'll see.”

“Ah,” I hissed as she gently tapped the icy cold liquid against the open wound on my head. “You weren't kidding.”

Blue giggled as she kept working on my face. “You know I don't lie.”

Her touch was gentle and kind, caring for me in a way that no one else had in a really long time. Washing my cuts, she covered them with band-aids, making sure she didn't miss one.

Swiping her hands back and forth over each other, she took a step back. “There, good as new.” Resting open palms on her hips, she looked proud of the work she had done. “At least now you shouldn't have to worry about anything getting infected.”

I couldn't take my eyes off her right then. She didn't look like a thirteen year old girl who played in the dirt and liked to climb trees, Blue looked like a young woman, she looked. . .

Beautiful.

“What?” she asked, dropping her arms and glancing herself over. “Is there something on me?”

Clearing my throat, I tore my eyes away. “Oh no, you're fine. Thanks for doing this,” I said, placing the wet ice cube rag on the table and running my fingers over the band-aids. “I didn't realize it was this bad.”

“Well, I fixed you, so now you can forget it was that bad, and we can do what we planned to do today.”

“What we planned?”I asked confused.

“Yeah,wehad a plan.” Her smile thickened as she bit her bottom lip. Bending over she opened her basket and pulled out an apple. “We're making an apple pie, remember?”

“I don't think I agreed to that. I know I said we'd replace it, but I was thinking we'd get one from the store.”

“Nope, you ain't that lucky. We're baking our own.” Picking up her basket, she plopped it down on the table with a thud. “Let's get cooking.”

My house smelled amazing that day. It hadn't smelled that good since my mother was alive. The warm air from the oven covered the house in cinnamon and apple. I kept taking in big breaths of air and holding them in.

This house will never smell this good again.

“That smells delicious,” I said, reaching out in an attempt to dip my finger inside and taste the filling.

“Uh uh,” she snapped, slapping my hand before it even came close to disrupting her perfect pie crust. “It's not for you, it's for Mrs. Vicki.”

“Come on, that's not fair. We made this pie, shouldn't we get to enjoy it?”

“We already enjoyed the one we borrowed—remember?”Arching her brow, she smirked. “Now we can enjoy returning what we borrowed.”

“Please? Just a little taste?” Giving her my best set of puppy dog eyes, I pushed out my lower lip.

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