Previously on Three's A Crowd…
"Hey – " I mutter awkwardly.
"Hey – " she replies back.
I feel my eyebrows knit together. Before yesterday everything between us was great – it was more than great it was perfect. Now this morning it's like we're two people who haven't seen each other in ten years who left on awkward terms. Is this what's to come?
"How was your night?" I ask folding my arms across my chest.
Willow shrugs at me and I understand her meaning.
"Yeah, me too," I announce. "It's not the same."
Willow folds her arms around her chest and looks at me thoughtfully. "When I go to the meeting tonight, will you come back?" she asks.
"W-We'll see," I state, happy to see that she is willing to try.
Willow considers my answer, thinking silently to herself again. "I got to get ready for work," she states looking down at her watch.
"Yeah, me too," I conclude holding my clothes up. I walk over to our chest of drawers and pulls out fresh underwear, bra and a pair of socks.
After finishing college Willow decided to become a computer analyser – computer writer – well, really I'm not completely sure what she does, just that she works with computers. For me, I decided to become a teacher, well; at the moment I am still in teacher training and I assist a class of thirty fourth graders. I love my job, just its sometimes hard separating work life from personal life, but I'm sure Willow understands.
I walk back into the spare room and shed my towel onto the floor. I step into my underwear, pulling them up to my hips, and I clasp my bra. Next, I pull on my jeans – a little hard to get on with wet legs. Finally, I put on a little white cami and then my shirt, buttoning it up.
Now, what to do with my hair? Usually I sit on the bed and use the hairdryer to blow dry my hair, however; with limited resources that is not possible. I sit down on the single bed and lean my head forward, unwrapping the towel from it I dry it as best I can, giving it a quick brush through. It's raining outside anyway so no one will notice. Whilst still sat on the bed I put my socks on – black ones with red hearts that Willow got me for Valentine's Day one year.
I get to my feet and pick up the towels from the floor and I walk out into the hallway and across to the bathroom. I twist the handle and push the door open, lost in thought I walk in on Willow getting ready to hop into the shower.
"Sorry!" I announce meeting Willow's eyes.
Ever since we moved in, neither of us have ever locked the door to the bathroom - unless of course we had guests round. Willow stands naked looking at me; my eyes trace her radiant body. Over the years Willow decided to cut her hair, now her auburn locks fall just slightly above her shoulders. Her body, still very slight with not an ounce of fat on her, the same when I first time I met her. Even now, the sight of her body takes my breath away. I gulp hard, thinking about yesterday I turn away, dropping the towels on the floor as I exit. I don't want to be tempted or commit to anything until she goes to the first meeting, just so that I know that she is determined to get help.
I lean my back against the bathroom door and exhale deeply, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes, pressing them hard against them, trying not to cry. I fail.
I head downstairs and go to the kitchen, intent to do the only thing can ever keep my mind at ease, cooking. Cooking usually helps sooth my nerves, I think it has something to do with feeling close to my mom after she died. You see, she and I used to take the time to cook family meals for my brother and father on a daily basis. My father, he wasn't – well isn't – a very pleasant man, he is a traditionalist and thinks that a women's place is at home during the day, cleaning, cooking and basically tending to his every need. If my mother or I refused anything he said then he would hit us, usually where the bruises would not show, although one time my teacher in gym class noticed a dark bruise on my ribs and confronted my parents about it as she thought I was being bullied at school – my father beat me that night till I was black and blue and couldn't get up off the floor – I was thirteen. From then on I realised I had to keep my head down and do what I could to stop either me or my mom getting battered by my father, which eventually transferred to Donnie, my brother. When I was seventeen my mom was driving me to school when we skidded on ice driving on the freeway where we slipped down an embankment and crashed onto the frozen river. I managed to climb out of the car in time before the ice buckled and engulfed the car into the freezing depths beneath. That was the last time I ever saw my mom alive. I stood glued to the same spot for hours as spectators and eventually police tried to pull the wreckage from the river, but it was too late, she was gone. When my father was informed he rushed to the site of the incident, and for about an hour I saw humanity in it. In some way I believe he loved my mom, but was just backwards in showing it. He took me home where I received the worst beating I had ever encountered in my life. He blamed me for her death and kept pounding me – I spit blood and I could swear blood was oozing from my ears, but he didn't stop until I felt like every bone in my body had been broken and bruised. I passed out and woke up two days later in the same spot in a pool of congealed blood that matted my hair to the floor. I picked myself off the ground and packed my bags. My father was at work and my brother was at school. And that was the day that I decided to grow a backbone and escape my life. As far as I'm aware they never even attempted to find me. I heard my father died last year of liver failure because apparently after my mom died and I left he turned into an alcoholic. When I heard the news I laughed, relieved that the man who caused me so much torment was gone, and I never had to see him again. As for my mom, I think about her every day and talk to her just the same as if she were here with me.
So cooking, it helps me concentrate and makes me feel like my mom is there with me. I grab some flour, sugar, milk, eggs and butter from the cupboard – pancake time!
I stir up all the ingredients and put some of the batter into a frying pan on the stove. I allow my mind to wander a little too long as I hear the smoke alarm begin to bellow the house down. Willow rushes into the kitchen half-dressed, her face full of concern. I pull the pan off the stove but catch my arm against the metal. "Shit!" I scream instinctively jumping away and hitting the pan off the stove down onto my foot.
"Tara!" Willow exclaims rushing to my aid. She turns on the tap and runs it till it runs cold. She rips off some kitchen towel and damped the tissue with the cold water. She does these actions twice and passes one of the bits of damp tissue to me. "Hold this to your hand," she utters to me softly, tending to my foot she carefully removes my sock and places the cold, wet tissue upon my already blistered skin.
I grimace and pull back reluctantly in pain.
"I know, sweetie," Willow utters leaning down to give the top of my foot a gentle kiss. "I know," she repeats.
"Thank you," I whisper appreciatively.
"I love you," Willow states placing the wet kitchen towel on my foot. She gets on all fours and leans into me. "I will prove to you that I love you," She whispers leaning in and brushing her lips against mine.
A day has felt a lifetime that I have longed for her touch and I kiss her back, pushing my tongue through parted lips I tickle her bottom lip and she grants me access as she greets me with her own tongue. We battle for dominance. Strong and passionate.
I bring my hands up to her naked back and guide my fingers across her soft skin, forgetting about my own blistered skin as the pain ebbs away. My life in her arms.
My watch beeps as it does every hour and I glance down at the time. 8am. "Willow, it's 8! I need to go!" I almost shout in urgency.
Willow kisses my neck gently, causing a rush to my head.
"W-Willow," I utter trying to sound impatient but comes out as more as a soft groan.
Reluctantly I push Willow gently off me. "I have to go to work!" I exclaim trying to get to my feet. I feel my foot swollen and tight as a large blister has formed. I pick my sock of the floor and carefully shove my foot in it. Willow is on her feet now and I give her another kiss. "I'll see you later."
"Love you," She adds giving me a smile.
"I love you too," I reply in honesty, not matter what I always will.
I walk to the front door and put of a pair of loose black shoes from the rack. I grab my bad from the bannister and get my car keys out as I leave the house for work.