True.
“Come on,” he repeats, flicking his fingers and gesturing for me to get up.
When I don’t move, he tugs me up and I groan dramatically. “And go where?”
“Anywhere.”
“Not the park,” I tell him.
“Doesn’t have to be the park. Maybe some ice cream? We can take Tessa.”
A smile touches my lips but not my eyes. “She’d love that.” And the fact that he offers to bring her stuns me. They hate dealing with each other, but I see that to cheer me up, they’re both willing to put up with each other. I suppose this is okay.
“Get dressed,” he orders, helping me off the bed and then walking to the door. “I’ll be waiting downstairs when you’re ready.”
I nod my head, watching the door click shut behind him. When he’s gone, I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the white wall across from me again. I check my phone, glad to see John sent me a text last night. There’s even a missed call from him.
Hey, babe. Made it to Vegas and checked into the hotel. It’s really hot here. Having a few meet and greets today and then getting drinks tonight with a few chefs. Don’t want you to wait up. I’ll call you tomorrow when I get a chance. You okay?
I start to reply, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I could tell him that I’m not okay and that I want him home more than ever before, but I won’t. John deserves to be in a place without regrets or worries.
Plus Max is right. Being here all day, locked inside a home that belongs to me and my husband will only wear me down. I could sit here and mope about John being gone and the truth that I could die at any given moment, but I won’t. I have to be stronger, do something with myself. If not for them, then at least for myself.
So I text my husband back:
Glad you’re having a good time already! I’m perfectly fine. Enjoy your trip and call or text whenever. No biggie. I’ll have my phone around.
After sending the message off, I stand up and walk to my closet, taking down a navy-blue romper and tossing it on the bed.
In the bathroom, I brush my teeth, apply some gloss to my lips, a light coat of mascara, brush my hair down, and then I get dressed quickly, grabbing my favorite brown fedora and sandals.
I take a thorough look in the mirror when I’m done. The romper is a little big on me now, but it’ll have to do. The hat is still stylish, given to me by my sister. I grab my jetpack, booting it up and adding a new bag of OPX, and carefully placing it in the black backpack.
After adjusting my tubes, I leave the bedroom, stopping at the top of the staircase. Max is already waiting at the bottom of it, sitting on the second to last step, his back to me. When he hears me coming down, he peers over his shoulder to look up at me.
Max stands and takes the stairs by twos, helping me the rest of the way down. When we’re at the bottom, he steadies me, his hands on my shoulders. He looks at me for quite some time, making me feel beyond awkward.
“What?” I ask, lowering my head.
“You look nice.” He steps back, looking me over again. “Go ahead,” he says, flashing a crooked smile, “do a jig.”
“Oh no.” I wave my hands at him, laughing as I place my backpack on my shoulders. “I am not in the mood to dance.”
“Come on! It’s been so long since I’ve seen Little Shakes in action.”
“Little Shakes is no longer capable of those things,” I laugh.
“I’m sure she is. Come on, give me life, Shakes!”
I look up at him, fighting a smile. “You are out of your mind if you think I’m about to dance for you right now, Max.”
“Come on! I bet it’ll make you feel better. You always were good at a quick little shoulder-jig.”
“Okay—fine. Fine.” I step back and look around the house, shaking my head. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Still smiling, I do a quick bobble with my shoulders, busting out in a laugh as I look up at him. “This is so lame without music!” I shout, but it doesn’t stop me from throwing my hands up and waving them in front of me.
Max breaks out in a laugh, clapping his hands twice. “Oh, man,” he wheezes, swiping at the corners of his eyes when I stop dancing. “You have no idea how much I needed that laugh.”
I adjust my backpack, feeling like my face is about to break from grinning so hard. “I’m done embarrassing myself for you. For that, you’re paying for the ice cream.”