Anticipation(8)

"Not for me."

She pushed herself into a seated position, pulling away from him like a cat that had exceeded its tolerance for petting.

"I'm going to go lie down," she said. "Thanks for the movie. And the popcorn."

She shifted to the edge of the couch and reached for her crutches. He  beat her to it, handing them to her and supporting her as she stood and  slipped the crutches under her arms.

She didn't look back as she made her way out of the room. A few seconds  later, he heard the distinct click as she shut her bedroom door behind  her.

He contemplated the empty popcorn bowl for a moment. Then he pushed himself to his feet and went to do something about dinner.





Blue sank onto the end of the bed and let the crutches slide to the  floor. A hot tear slid down her cheek and plopped onto her thigh. She  rubbed at the dark spot on her yoga pants, then used the back of her  hand to wipe her cheek.

They were going to be okay. She hadn't been sure, had been racked with  uncertainty and anxiety ever since she'd agreed to stay with Eddie after  her release from hospital. She'd been building this day to epic  proportions over the past week, terrified that the uncontrollable  feelings she'd experienced after the accident were here to stay and not  just the result of a damned good scare.         

     



 

But Eddie's house felt welcoming and good. They'd played Call of Duty  and watched a movie and eaten popcorn, and it had all been normal.  Ordinary. Average.

Just two friends hanging out. No inappropriate urges or feelings -  except for that moment when she'd woken and found herself looking up  into his face and had been hit by the tsunami of relief that was still  washing through her now.

Because they were going to be okay. The genie of her love for him had  returned to its bottle, and she could once again stuff a cork in the  neck to keep the genie in its place. Her leg would heal, and she would  go back to her job and her apartment and her life, and those moments of  weakness in the hospital would disappear like the aberrations they were.

Thank. God.

Tugging the fluffy throw over herself, she reached for one of the many books Maggie had gifted Blue during her hospital stay.

She could hear Eddie moving around in the kitchen - the rush of water in  the sink, the clang of a pot on the stove - and she curled her toes in  anticipation of dinner.

Eddie was a great cook. Not fancy - never fancy - but he had a talent  for putting ordinary ingredients together and making them sing. She  especially liked it when he delved into his Brazilian heritage and  offered up the food from his childhood - feijao tropeiro, feijoada,  moqueca de camarao.

Her mouth was watering, and she grabbed her phone from the bedside table. Eddie answered on the second ring.

"You're kidding me," he said flatly.

"You want me to yell? Would that be better for you?"

"What do you want?"

"What are we having for dinner?"

"Nothing fancy. Satay chicken with salad. Why?

"Do you think we could have some brigadeiro for dessert?" Chocolate  truffle balls made from condensed milk, brigadeiro were one of her  favorite foods in all the world.

"Let me see if I've got a can of condensed milk."

She heard the sound of a cupboard door opening.

"You're in luck," he said.

"You're the best."

"For the next five minutes, anyway," he said dryly.

"Bask in it while you can."

She ended the call. Ten seconds later, her phone beeped with a message.  She opened it to find a picture of Eddie's middle finger.

"That's beautiful," she hollered, knowing he'd hear her through the wall.

A quiet knock woke her two hours later, and she realized she'd once  again fallen asleep. That was all she did lately, apparently - slip into  a doze the moment she was in one position for more than five minutes.  Hopefully that meant her body was using all its energy to heal at a  rapid rate of knots, but she wasn't exactly thrilled by how helpless it  made her feel.

"Dinner's ready," Eddie said, his voice muffled through the wood.

"You can come in. I'm not having an orgy in here."

The door eased open and Eddie's expression told her he was unamused by her sarcasm. "I was respecting your privacy."

"So gallant. Be still my heart."

He collected the crutches from where she'd left them and handed them to her. "Remember, I'm in charge of the brigadeiro supply."

"Wow. Bribery and threats, and we're only on day one."

"I use the weapons at my disposal."

"In that case, I take back what I said about you being gallant."

"Since you didn't mean it anyway, I'll try not to be too wounded."

She laughed, delighted by the way he never failed to return serve to her. He stood aside as she made her way toward the door.

Surprise made her hesitate as she entered the kitchen, and the warm  weight of Eddie's chest hit her back. Before she had a chance to teeter  off balance, his arm snaked around her waist, checking her forward  motion.

"Next time maybe give me a bit of warning before you slam on the brakes," he said, his mouth very close to her ear.

His arm was gone almost instantly, but between it and the beautifully set table before her, she felt more than a little thrown.

There were candles, flowers from the garden, and real linen napkins  folded on the side plates. A bottle of her favorite Italian beer sat at  one of the place settings, while the other boasted a bottle of Brahma, a  beer from Eddie's homeland that she wouldn't drink on a bet, even if  she was dying from thirst.

"I figured it was a celebration. Your first night home," Eddie said.

"Thanks." She didn't know what else to say. He'd gone to a lot of trouble for her, as well as making her favorite dessert.

"Sit."

He gestured her toward the table and she maneuvered herself awkwardly into her chair.         

     



 

"I'm going to owe you big time after all this, aren't I?" She reached out to touch the delicate pale pink petal of a rose.

"I wasn't aware we had a score card. You do this, I do that." Eddie  shrugged with one shoulder, his gaze focused on the chicken skewers he  was arranging on two dinner plates. "You need me, I want to help. That's  all that matters. We're family, right?"

Her gut tightened at his words and she found herself swallowing a lump  of emotion. "Yes," she said, the word coming out a little mangled.

Absolutely Rafel and Eddie were her family. That's why she'd fought such  a hard and bloody battle against her own desire for so many years. She  had no one else.

"You'll have your turn to be gracious and generous one day," Eddie said,  the corner of his mouth curving up into a roguish smile. "I'm not sure  how well you'll rise to the occasion, but we can cross that bridge when  we come to it."

"I can be as gracious as the next person," she said, mildly stung by his assessment.

"If the next person is a sleep-deprived rhino with anger management issues."

He was enjoying needling her, she could see.

"So let me get this straight - this is you being gracious with me? Insulting me? Questioning my character?"

"I'm simply making an observation."

Eddie slid a plate in front of her before taking his place to her left.

"You know what? Bring on the day you're in my power. I can't wait to  turn the tables. And it'll happen, too. One of your women will try to  run you down in a dark alleyway after you dump her, and then I'm going  to show you what gracious and generous means, buddy. You wait."

"I almost want to jump in front of a speeding car, so I can experience this generosity," Eddie said.

He raised his beer, and she lifted hers so they could clink necks.

"To being gracious," he said.

"To turning the tables," she said.

They were both smiling as they concentrated on their meals. Eddie's  satay sauce was a delicate balance of spice and nuts, and she made  appreciative guttural noises for a few minutes before asking about  Brothers Ink. Eddie had already told her that her regulars - customers  with full chest, back, or other major body tattoos she'd been working on  for several months - had all signaled their willingness to wait until  she was well again rather than have their work completed by another  artist. She took a high number of walk-ins, however, as well as acting  as an informal second-in-charge to Eddie and Rafel, and she wanted to  know how they were covering her absence. Once Eddie had assuaged her  concerns, talk moved to his mother's upcoming birthday, and the fact  that Eddie had yet to buy her a gift.

"You always leave it till the last minute," she said.

"You always leave it to the last minute, you mean."

She pushed her empty plate away, acknowledging the truth of his words.  She always helped him pick his mother's presents. The Lord only knew  what the poor woman would end up with otherwise.

"We can go shopping on the weekend." She'd seen a selection of French  silk scarves in a local shop a month or so ago and made a mental note  that Gabriela Oliveira would love one of the more brightly colored ones.