Page 49 of One More Day
‘You’re going to clean it for me?’
He looks puzzled, as if I’ve asked him a very tricky question.
‘You’re in pain, right?’
‘Yes,’ I nod. I feel tears well up in my eyes again and it’s nothing to do with the pain I’m in. It’s the opposite, in fact.
‘Then let me help you.’
I nod again and he curls his hand so gently behind my left knee, then dabs around where I’m cut as I do my best not to jump or hiss too much from the sting. His hand is cold but it’s his touch that sends shivers right through me.
‘You’ve done this before?’ I say, swallowing back a wave of emotion at how careful he is being right now. ‘Ow.’
‘Sorry,’ he says, glancing up my way. ‘Yes, many times, but not in a long while. Let’s just say my parents sending me to Scouts was one of their better ideas.’
‘You were a Boy Scout?’
‘A long time ago,’ he says, moving on to my right leg. ‘You’ve a nasty scratch here for sure but it should heal up quickly once it’s cleaned and dressed.’
He examines my knee further, his hand hooked around the back of my leg again, and within a few minutes I’m wrapped, bandaged and feeling better already.
‘Thank you,’ I say, still a bit perplexed at how he went way above my expectations to help me just now.
‘You’re welcome,’ he says with a shy smile.
He stands up, the first aid box, neatly packed up, in his hands.
‘You’ll be right as rain by tomorrow, wait and see.’
He takes my hand and helps me off the settee and I can feel his eyes on me as I shuffle past and out into the hallway.
‘Would I be pushing it if I asked for a fireman’s lift up the stairs?’ I shout back, thinking I need to say something to shake off a moment of tenderness I haven’t experienced in a very long time. ‘I’m joking – before you answer.’
‘Yes, you would be pushing it,’ he calls back as I make my way up the stairs, one sorry step at a time. ‘That’s my good deed done for today. We can go back to texting now.’
I smile to myself as I take one stair at a time, and when I do make it to the top, I can hear Charlie rummage around the kitchen, which reminds me how hungry I am now that the shock of my fall is slowly wearing off. I amsohungry, yet I don’t have the energy to cook, or even stay standing. No way.
I strip off my leggings, wincing with my eyes closed as they catch on the bandage and pull at my skin. I throw them into a corner, knowing their destiny is in the bin, and I slowlylie down backwards on to the bed, ignoring George’s paws that tap me for attention. If his paws brush my knees, I’ll scream.
And then I smell food cooking from downstairs. Ah, really, Charlie? Are you trying to kill me?
George sniffs the air too and I feel bad for him as his food bowl is all the way downstairs. I simply didn’t have the strength to take it up for him, so just like me he’s going to have to wait another little while to be fed, or however long it takes for me to be mobile again.
‘My poor knees, George. Don’t you feel even a little bit guilty? ’Cos you sure don’t look it, mister.’
He totally ignores me, obviously sick of my moaning already. I sink into the pillow.
‘Man, that feels good,’ I whisper as I stretch out on the bed. I may be in pain but at least I have room to manoeuvre and stretch out instead of curling up in the foetal position on the sofa, as I have the past two nights. Poor Charlie has that ahead of him. Let’s see how tidy he keeps the place when he has to camp out there.
And then comes the waft of garlic, slinking up the stairs under the door, which makes my stomach grumble.
I text Carlos to see how his date went in a bid to try and distract my empty belly.
Disaster, he replies instantly, which makes me giggle, even though it probably shouldn’t.Totally catfished again. He said he was middle-aged, which is vague but acceptable. The man looked like my da, only a paler Irish version. I HATE internet dating.
I warily open a message from my friend Maeve, who as always is soft and gentle in her approach, which makes me feel bad for not being upfront and honest with her and Yvonne. I’ve only known them a few years since I moved to Dublin, but they took me under their wing after we met at hot yoga and the rest is history.
Hold tight, Rose, I know this time of year sucks for you. You’ve got this.
