“Honey, were you crying she suddenly asks with a worried look on her face..
“Oh, it’s nothing, just a bad dream…” I try shrugging her off. She seems to believe me. Or Not. But drops the subject anyway.
“Ok… Well, breakfast will be ready soon, so if you’re ready to get up, the kitchen is down the hall, your welcome to join me and my husband!” she said back to her carrying motherly ways.
“Thanks. I’ll take a quick shower and be right with you.” I am not very hungry, but I can use a cup of tea before I leave. And I still need to pay for my stay. I could do that after she eats. I don’t want to ruin their morning routine.
“Ok, see you soon then!” she chimes. “Jax, come!” the dog gives me a final lick on my cheek and hops off the bed, I can’t help but smile. He’s a cute giant
of an unknown breed.
After they leave, I decide to take a quick shower, dry my hair and try making myself presentable. Last night’s sleep was way much needed. I haven’t slept that well in almost two months. It must be something in the air here or just the exhaustion of my long drive, but despite my nightmare, I feel refreshed. I take a closer look at myself in the mirror – with clean hair and not that pale siin, I do look better. The bags under my eyes are almost gone. A slight blush on my cheeks makes me look almost fine, except for that hideous scar that is bound to be a reminder of that night.
Well, I can live with that, I think.
I just need to get a job, settle down and hope for the best. I then lower my eyes to inspect the rest of my body. I was way too skinny, which was not good for the baby, I could almost count my ribs. My small breasts are almost non–existent now, and I used to be a B cup… A slight bump is already forming: soon I will need to buy some new pants…
Then I lower my eyes to the most disturbing part–my thigh. The sight is just awful. Right in the middle of my left thigh is a huge scar. It’s not straight, it’s curvy and dark red. The wound on my thigh was deep, so deep that it damaged the nerves. A plece of flesh was cut out from my once beautiful part, that’s why the muscles can’t grow together properly and hurt all the time. I’m a freaking Dr House. Except that I can’t drown myself in a sea of Vicodin, I turn away from the mirror with a frown and limp back into the room. I got dressed pretty fast, just threw on some black skinny jeans, a T–shirt with a Mickey Mouse, and my favourite pair of yellow Converse with a Batman print. I pack my stuff in my old duffel, and I’m done. After the breakfast I can check out of this place and continue my journey to God knows where…
When I limp to the ldtchen, I’m met with an aroma of fried bacon, which makes my stomach twist a bit, but I hold it in. They must have heard the thump of my cane, because even before I reach the kitchen, Shirley peaks from behind the door and motions me to join them.
“Come, honey, I’ve made you some herb tea, that should help you with that morning sickness of yours!”
“Thanks” 1 mumble, drop my duffel near the door and enter the kitchen. I take a look around and can’t hold in a “wow” – the place is awesome if you like cooking: a huge stove, a lot of cupboards, different kettles and pans are attached to the walls, a buge table that can fit a family of ten. Large windows with white curtains hold pots of bright flowers. The place is full of light and very inviting. Finally, my eyes land on a man sitting at the table, and wow, he’s huge! He must be under 2 meters high, and his shoulders are so broad that if I would hug him, it would be a challenge His dark brown hair is cut short, but a few locks still fall to his eyebrows. He has deep, dark green eyes surrounded by wrinkles. I guess he’s in his mild–tortles, Just Uke Shirley. A heartwarming huge smile is on his face. I think my shock is pretty amusing to him. My checks turn bright red in a matter of seconds.
“H..” I wave at him shyly.
His smile seems to become even wider.
“Good morning! I’m Jonathan, Shirley’s husband.”
“Emily, ulce to meet you.” I shake his hand, and mine just disappears in his huge and warm one. His handshake is firm but gentle. All in all, he left a good
pression, and I relaxed a bit.
“Please, sit, Shirley made breakfast!” he motions to a chair next to him. The thought of breakfast makes my smile drup a bit, but again, I swallow my discomfort and force a smile
