The scent of bacon frying made its way down the long, dark hallway into the room where he was still comatose, flat on his back. His stomach woke first, empty of sustenance, growling to be fed. Slowly he regained consciousness. A dull pounding in his head intensified. His stomach somersaulted, a wave of nausea overpowered hunger, traveled up his esophagus, filling his mouth with the taste of vomit. He sat up, swallowed and groaned. He opened his eyes only slightly, recoiling at even the tiniest hint of light. Looking around, he was disoriented, unsure of his whereabouts or the circumstances that brought him there. Then he heard her voice.
"You are such a sweet kitty. Yes, you are, my pretty Shadow." Celina bent over to pet the tailless cat between her ears.
Shadow circled, weaving around her legs, rubbing against her ankles, slippered feet, leaving stray cat hairs clinging to her pajama bottoms. Celina stood at the stove in her bathrobe, making breakfast she hoped would cure a hangover, including the one she was certain he would have. Greasy fried potatoes, scrambled eggs with cheese, crispy bacon, dry toast, coffee.
Sitting at the kitchen table he had already set with their every day dishes, chipped with memories and carelessness, James read the sport section in morning paper.
"Well, I'll be." James muttered to no one in particular.
"What's that, James?" Celina asked.
"Oh. The Jets and the Leafs made the playoffs."
"Well good. Any chance of winning it? Canada needs to reclaim that cup."
"The Leafs had a pretty good season. So maybe." He said optimistically.
"Fingers crossed." Then she changed topics. "Hey. Hon, would you check on him?" Celina asked. "Please?"
"Sure." James said then folded the paper, put it aside and rose from his chair.
"Hey." Ty said barely above a whisper as the sound of his own voice made his head pound even more. He stood there, his shoulders slumped, his face pale, slightly ashen, his eyes bloodshot, his thick hair sticking up on one side, flat on the other.
"Morning Ty. You're up early." James greeted him quietly, not expecting a response. "Coffee?"
Ty nodded.
"Here. Drink this first." Celina touched his cheek tenderly, then handed him a glass of fizzing pinkish thick liquid.
"What is it?" Grimacing as he eyed the glass in his hand.
"It's an Alka Seltzer in Pedialyte and pear juice. It will rehydrate you and ease your stomach." She reassured him.
He wrinkled his nose at her offering but didn't argue, drank the entire concoction without pause.
"Good. Have a seat. Breakfast is almost ready." She instructed.
Ty did as he was told, groaning as an old man would as he eased himself into the chair. Head in hands, his fingers began to methodically rub, first his temples, forehead, between his eyes, in a circular motion, in a T-Touch fashion, to relieve the tension, the ache.
"A bit rough this morning, huh Ty?" James gently teased him.
Not looking up, Ty exhaled loudly and nodded.
"Well, Celina's remedies will cure what ails you." James said, watching him empathically. "Just ask our other boys."
"James. This has cured your ails, a time or two as well." Celina gave him a knowing look as she placed the eggs, toast and ketchup on the table.
"True that." James chuckled as he brought a platter of bacon and a bowl of potatoes to the table as well.
Hot coffee and tepid water poured, Celina sat, then reached for James and Ty's hands to give thanks. "Thank you for this food and this family." They considered Ty family.
"Amen." James said, Ty mumbled, in relative unison.
Celina sighed. "Ty. You really need to hydrate. Drink your water. Your body really needs it." She advised as she loaded his plate with food. He acquiesced, drained his water glass.
Celina and James ate breakfast in relative silence, with little conversation, atypical for them but mindful of Ty's condition. Aside from nods and sighs, Ty was quiet, subdued.
His plate of food half eaten, his second cup of coffee finished, Ty finally spoke in real words. "Thank you."
"You are most welcome." Celina responded.
He looked off into the distance, eyes blinking as he tried to recall, tried to remember the prior evening, the circumstances that brought him to their home. Failing that, he said. "James. Celina. I am sorry." Ty assumed the worst.
"What for?" James asked, before taking another gulp of coffee.
"Um. For last night?" He ventured.
"Ty. There's nothing to apologize for." Celina said.
"Oh. Okay." Ty paused, took another sip of coffee, then tried another tack. "Well. Then. What happened? I mean last night. Why am I here?"
"You don't remember?" James asked.
He shook his head. "Not really. Last I remember was being at Roscoe's. I remember talking to Rick and some girl. Everything else is a blur."
"Well. Do you remember taking those antibiotics for your hand?" Celina asked trying to establish a baseline.
He looked at his neatly bandaged hand, nodded in response.
"Well. You had a bad reaction to those."
"Oh?"
"And. To be honest, the beer didn't help things."
"Oh." He hung his head.
"Luckily Celina had a bad feeling so she called to check on you." James added, smiling at Celina.
"James found you on the floor in the men's bathroom. Naturally, we brought you home."
"Oh. Sorry." Ty mumbled.
"Again. No need to be sorry. Life happens. You could not have predicted that would happen." James said.
"I should have. I was stupid." Ty groused.
"Don't be silly." She said tenderly, patted his arm.
He didn't respond except with a frown.
"Are you feeling any better?" She inquired.
"Some." He paused then added. "Alka Seltzer, Pedialyte and pear juice?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "I always have those on hand. Just to be on the safe side. You never know."
"You seem to always know Momma C." Ty responded, gave her a weak smile.
"Her premonitions are pretty strong with you, Ty. Almost right off the bat of you two meeting. Somehow she just knows." James said, then asked. "Remember Nova Scotia?"
"Who could forget?" She shuddered. "Thankfully, Mirna was there. Everything turned out fine in the end."
Ty inhaled deeply, sighed then muttered. "Yeah. I guess."
Celina glanced at the clock in the kitchen. "Well. Look at the time. I better get to the clinic. Dr. Francis will be arriving soon and Paul will undoubtedly be ready to leave."
"I need to get going too." Ty offered halfheartedly.
"Oh no you don't, mister. You need to rest a bit more before coming in. Okay?"
He nodded, somewhat relieved.
She stood, gathering her plate. "James has the morning off so.." she trailed off.
"Hey Honey. I will get this. Remember, whoever cooks, doesn't clean." James recited the second "rule" they established as newlyweds.
She smiled. "Thanks honey." She leaned down, kissed him tenderly on the lips, whispered that she loved him, which he echoed, adhering to their first rule of marriage, to kiss and to say I love you's often. Smiling, she left the room.
"I'll wash." Ty volunteered.
"Good deal. I'll dry." James replied.
At the sink together, the two men didn't converse though occasionally James glanced at Ty, seemingly deep in thought as he washed each and every dish, cup, plate, fork meticulously.
Celina appeared in the kitchen, dressed in peach scrubs and white tennis shoes. "Well, I'm off. You two stay out of trouble." Grinning, she leaned in, kissed James, whispered that she loved him which he automatically reciprocated. She hugged Ty, kissed his forehead, turned and headed for the front door.
Ty turned back to the sink, absently washing the same cast iron skillet for several minutes.
James asked. "Everything okay, Ty?"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"You want to talk about last night?" As a practicing psychologist at the Veterans Affairs Canada medical center in Vancouver, James was trained to assess, diagnose and treat mental, emotional, and behavioral issues in military veterans. Clearly something was bothering Ty, beyond his hangover.
Ty shakes his head No.
"Okay. Rinse that. It's more than clean." Skillet dried and put away, James hung the wet towel on oven handle to dry. "Come on. Let's sit on the back deck, get some fresh air."
Settling into chairs adorned with faded, worn cushions, each gazed out into the English Bay and North Shore mountains beyond.
"I never tire of this view." James leaning back in his chair, propped his feet up on the foot stool.
"It's really beautiful." Ty agreed as he tried to relax into his chair. "You are lucky to see this every day."
"Yes, very lucky." James liked to tell the house's story, it's history. "You know, when Celina's great grandfather built this house with his own hands in 1908, there was nothing else here. Now there are high rises and McMansions all around us. But we somehow we still have this view."
"I could live out here. On this porch. Looking at the bay, the mountains. Perfect."
"Not in Vancouver's wet, cold winters. You'd be a frozen popsicle."
Ty laughed imagining the sight. "True that. Don't get me wrong, I think the house is great too. What style is it?"
"She's a classic early craftsman with straight lines, beautiful wood work and moldings, high ceilings, massive fireplace, stained glass windows. And, her great grandfather built every inch of it."
"The craftsmanship is really incredible."
"Nothing like it anywhere. All those modern monstrosities have nothing on this old girl. She's an original with warmth and character."
"Yeah. A classic. You have to admire that." He paused, then added. "Did I ever tell you that I used to own an 1957 GMC Blue Chip 9300 pickup? Boy, she was real pretty."
"No, you didn't. Now that's another classic. When?"
"Oh man...let's see. Hmm. She was one of my dad's left behinds. Her engine was just a bunch of rusted junk under the hood but her body was nice. I spent a lot of time taking her apart, cleaning each part, replacing stuff, putting her back together, just tinkering. Think I got her running again when I was, maybe fifteen or so."
"Impressive. How long did you have her? More importantly why did you get rid of her?" James asked.
"Oh, I guess I sold her before my last year at UCVM. So maybe ten or twelve years. She was always breaking down at the worst possible moments. I needed something more reliable. So I sold Old Blue... to a friend."
"Old Blue, huh? Good name."
"Yeah." Ty pull out his phone, thumbed through his photos, found one of his old truck, then handed his phone to James. "Here. Look."
"Wow. Definitely a beauty." James looked closely at the picture, expanding it to see the details.
"Yeah. She sure was." He said in a wistful tone, then he chuckled. "Funny. Michael Barnes called last night. You remember him, right?"
"Of course. You two stayed with us for a few days a while back. Wasn't it for Mirna's Vancouver Island marmot trip, right?"
"Good memory. It was my first trip with Mirna for that UCVM internship. Almost four years ago."
"Time flies." He gave a half laugh. "How is Michael?"
"He's good. He's a professor at UCVM now. He'll be here in May for that vet conference."
"Love to see him again. We'll invite the two of you and Mirna for dinner one night."
"He'd like that. Me too." He continued. "Anyhow. He called to say that he saw Old Blue broken down on the road by the school in Calgary."
"Really? He knew it was your old truck?" James was dubious.
"Believe it or not, yeah!"
"No kidding. Small world. Maybe you can get her back then."
"Doubtful. Very doubtful." Ty frowned, then sighed.
James looked closer at the picture. "Who is the girl behind the wheel?" Handing the phone back to Ty.
As Ty looked closer at the photo, he paled ever so slightly. "Oh...No one really."
"Ah Huh. Does that very pretty no one have a name?"
Ty laughed half heartedly, trying to hold his cards. "Of course. Amy. Her name is Amy."
"Is she the "friend".." James used air quotes to emphasize friend. "that bought Old Blue?"
"Yeah."
"Well. That explains it."
"What?"
"Last night. When Michael told you about seeing Old Blue, did he mention Amy?"
"Yeah. So."
"Last night. You had a horrible nightmare. You were very distraught, you kept calling for Amy. Said that you had messed up...actually you said, and excuse my French, that you fucked up."
Ty shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. "I don't remember that at all. It was nothing, I am sure."
"Pretty bad nightmare for it being nothing. You were pretty wound up about her."
Ty shrugged again, suggested. "Probably just a crazy reaction to the antibiotics."
"Maybe." James leaned forward, to look Ty in the eye. "But. If you ever want to talk, I am all ears."
"Thanks. Nothing to talk about. We've both moved on." Ty rose from his chair. "Mind if I take a shower?"
"Sure. Use the bath in the hall. Towels are in the closet. You'll find everything you need in there including a new toothbrush."
"Thanks."
James followed Ty into the house to retrieve the newspaper. He hadn't finished the sports section. Settling back into the deck chair, he read through the paper including an article on the Canadian Equestrian Team's riding star Andrew Pierson.
Hello Dear Readers. A very short chapter. Enjoy. As always, tell me what you think.
SBR