Ch 16 It Should Come With a Warning: HOT
As I left the bathroom, I caught sight in the mirror of something swinging from my hair. Ah, my brush, still lodged in my nest. I grabbed it and worked it through as best I could, then worked my mane up into a ponytail. I gestured to Eric to follow Sam downstairs, giving him the "1 second" sign so many men have been given by countless women.
Once he was safely out of the room, I flew around like a madwoman, frantically looking for something nicer to wear than sweats and a t-shirt. I knew I couldn't go too dressy though, or Sam would call my shit out. I finally settled on jeans and a soft yellow fitted t-shirt, which didn't sound like much but actually was a nice change from the giant, baggy things I'd been living in. I slipped on silver sandals and padded downstairs, not bothering with makeup - I knew it wouldn't do much good, as little sleep as I'd had recently, and I couldn't do too much of an about face too quickly. I did give my face a good wash, though, and put some drops in my eyes to help the redness.
When I made my way downstairs, Sam and Eric were sitting at my kitchen table, making idle chitchat and waiting on the coffee maker, cups already out. God bless Sam and his well meaning heart. Bill's seat at the table was, as usual, left empty by some unspoken code. The coffee finished just as I got to the room and Sam started to get up but I stopped him, serving it myself. It had been such a long time since I had done such a simple thing as serve coffee to a guest. I started to think back, and it hit me.
The last cup of coffee I poured was for Bill.
My hand shook and my thumb gave out. The pot trembled, seemed to hover a moment, then began its plummet. I met Eric's eyes over my still-in-midair hand and saw him begin to move, saw Sam rush from the corner of my eye to shove me to the left, felt Eric catch me from Sam's shove.
The pot glanced off my little toe, breaking it, then hit the kitchen floor, shattering into a million pieces. A full pot of coffee hit my sandaled feet, and a million glass shards seemed to make their way like so many needles into my feet and ankles, under the hem of my jeans. Strong arms swept me up, and I blacked out, a merciful respite from the pain.