Page 92 of Sing with Me

Skye walked past the sleeping Diehl and heard her name.

What?

“Skye, I’m sorry.” Diehl’s eyes were still closed.

He was not awake.

Skye pulled back the sheer drapes, unlocked the French door, and opened it. The gentle roar of the ocean filled the room, together with the morning breeze that swirled around Skye’s hair. There wasn’t enough sunshine this morning to kill the germs in the house, but the wind picked up, playing with the drapes. She tied up the drapes.

She turned on the fan to get more circulation going.

Lord Jesus, help this man. Something is going on.

As she entered the kitchen, Marlo was leaving with an empty basket. Chef Joseph was clearing the island. There were boxes of takeout Chinese food. The trash can was overfilled.

On the floor in front of the refrigerator were milk spills.

“Have you started the coffee?” Skye asked.

“Yep. Kona.”

Skye nodded. The Brooks family liked Kona coffee. They sourced it themselves from Hawaii.

Skye opened the windows by the breakfast nook to air out the kitchen.

She donned some disposable gloves that Chef Joseph had brought with him, found a rag, and cleaned up the spill on the tile floor.

Marlo came in with more groceries. “That coffee smells good.”

“Compared to the rest of the house.” Chef Joseph got busy chopping up bell pepper and mushrooms.

Since Skye still had on her gloves, she tied up the trash bag.

“I’ll take it out,” Marlo said.

“Thank you.”

Skye found new trash bags in the pantry and lined the tall trash can. She felt an urge to take another trash bag and clear out all the bottles in the living room, but they were not her bottles, this was not her house, and she did not want to overstep her boundaries.

While Chef Joseph prepared the food, Skye unloaded the dishwasher and put away the dishes.

Marlo returned, washed his hands, and started loading the dishwasher with Skye.

None of them mentioned Diehl, who was still in the living room.

When the coffee was ready, Skye poured a cup. It was hot. She placed it on a small tray and took it to the living room.

As she approached Diehl, his eyes opened. They were bloodshot red. “Skye?”

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked, trying to keep her emotions in check.

She had no idea what this man was going trough.

“Do you have food?” Diehl sat up slowly, held his head with one hand as he took the cup from Skye with another hand.

“Be careful. It’s hot.” She stepped closer to prevent a spill.

He smelled pretty ripe. Skye wondered when he had showered last, and whether he had remained in this state since Thursday when he left the note on the door, telling them not to cook for two days.

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