Page 40 of Built to Last
Creeper.
I’m feeling a little better, thanks. Going to heat up your soup now, thanks again for bringing it over. Don’t think I’ll be up to coming back to work tomorrow though.
Like I said, no rush. Take as long as you need. I know you’re eager to get more painting done but we’re ahead of schedule. It can wait until you’re ready.
Relief sweeps through me that he’s not pressuring me to rush back. Even my parents don’t understand why I can’t just ‘push through’ on days like this, especially if we already had plans. They refuse to accept that fatigue isn’t the same as just being tired. It’s one of the reasons I only see my parents a couple of times a year now even though they don’t live far away.
Me:
OK. Hopefully I’ll be back the day after tomorrow but I’ll let you know.
Phillip:
No problem. Now go eat your soup.
Yes, boss.
Boss? I like the sound of that.
I roll my eyes.
Me:
Don’t get used to it.
Over the next two days Phillip and I watch a couple more episodes of what has now become ‘our’ crime show and he makes me laugh by texting his wild theories about who the murderer could be. His goofy messages have become my favourite part of the day. He never pushes me to come back to work, only keeps me updated on how he’s doing with his own project. That turns into him also sharing little stories about what his nephew has been getting up to at school. Toby sounds like a sweet kid who is probably also a little too smart for his own good. I imagine Phillip was the same at that age. I enjoy hearing more about his family, it’s not really a dynamic I’ve seen in person before and it’s fun experiencing it vicariously through Phillip even if the reminder I’ll be in the thick of it for real this weekend makes my palms sweat.
On Friday morning, I wake up with some energy for the first time in days. No longer feeling like someone has tied lead weights to my limbs is a relief. First up on the agenda is a shower. My legs are still a little shaky as I make my way to the bathroom but I have a stool in the walk-in shower for this very reason.
The hot water feels amazing and for a moment I just sit there, enjoying the feeling of the last few days being washed away. My hair is greasy and needs to be shampooed twice before I can apply conditioner, meaning my arms are tired by the time I rinse the last of the product out. Still, it was worth it to feel properly clean again.
Bundled up in my dressing-gown, I sit on the edge of my bed, needing a minute after the effort it took to shower. OnceI’ve recovered, I pull on my comfiest pair of black leggings, an oversized lavender sweatshirt, and grey wool socks. I brush out my wet strands of hair before tying it back in a plait. After all of that it takes another moment of stillness before I’m ready to go in search of breakfast.
Aria looks up from her spot at the kitchen table with a smile as I shuffle into the room.
“Feeling better?” The answer is obvious considering I’m wearing actual clothes instead of pyjamas.
“Much, thank you.”
“You going back to work today or giving it until after the weekend?”
“I’m still a bit shaky so I think it’s best to wait until Monday before getting back to it. I was going to call Phillip after I’ve eaten to let him know.”
“Sounds good,” Aria replies, then shifts forward in her seat, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, now we finally have a chance to gossip without him in earshot, are you ready to fill me in on how it’s been going with you two? I’m guessing pretty well since he was here playing nursemaid the other day.”
“Do not start,” I warn. My baggy sweatshirt and damp hair probably undermine the threat, but still.
“Come on, Rose, I have zero time to date. Let me live vicariously through you.”
“You’d have plenty of time to date if you weren’t such a workaholic.”
“I’m not a workaholic, I’mdriven. There’s a difference.” She primly tucks a strand of her red hair behind her ear then turns back to me, gaze pleading. “Just a little update. A morsel, a crumb, a?—”
“Bloody hell, woman, fine!” I laugh, shaking my head. “You already know I like him, what more is there to say?”
“Well, is it serious or are you just seeing how things go? Where are you at?”
“It’s serious. More serious than I expected, actually. I’m meeting his family on Sunday.”
