CH 8 Strength and Scents
Strong arms lifted me, cradled me and carried me upstairs. I was so out of it, I didn't even stop him when, for the first time in four months, I was carried, bride like, over the threshold into the master bedroom of my home. I was dimly aware that nothing had changed. The sheets, the blankets, Bill's trinkets on his bedside table; all the same. Blond blue began to lay me down on the bed and I stirred, began to wail and kick and thrash in his arms. It all tumbled out, how I hadn't been in there since Bill 's death. But, I had to admit, I had missed Bill's smell, and smelling him in the sheets was a balm to my frazzled nerves. Puzzled, he stood holding me for a moment before coming up with a solution. He sat himself on the bed first, still carrying me, then lay himself down with me cradled in his arms. I grabbed a handful of sheet and, in strong arms and with Bill's scent in my head again at last, I slept.