“Ready to try again?” I asked.
She nodded and this time I helped her up. She still winced and moved slowly but she was able to stay upright.
“Do you want me to bring you something to eat in here?”
She shook her head no.
“Do you feel up to coming to the kitchen?”
She nodded, so I helped her into the bathroom. She promised to call if she needed me; I told her I would leave her alone but I wanted the door open so I could hear her. Again, she nodded, but didn’t say anything.
“I won’t leave the kitchen unless you call. Okay?”
Her eyes looked up at me for a minute, unblinking. “Okay,” she whispered.
Calling Bear to come with me, I left.
I made my way to the kitchen slowly; I was stiff from sleeping in the chair and my leg was aching with the strain from yesterday. I stood at the counter for a minute, thinking about what had just happened. I had no idea why it was so important that I comfort her. I shook my head at my own odd behavior. My mind seemed to have a will of its own at the moment and I couldn’t stop the reactions. I started the coffee and grabbed some eggs from the refrigerator. All the appliances were working, thanks to the generators. I heard the water start-up and was pleased to know the woman was able to get into the shower. I stopped for a minute again, thinking. I couldn’t keep calling her ‘the woman.’ How should I address her? I puzzled briefly, and then decided I would figure it out later. Earlier, I had hoped she wouldn’t be here long enough for me to have to address her at all. But looking out at the storm, still pounding away outside, I knew that probably wasn’t going to be the case.
Just as I was finishing up the scrambled eggs, I heard a noise behind me and turned. She was swimming in my grey sweatshirt and pants with the arms and legs rolled up; staring at me with those huge blue eyes, filled with trepidation, and looking totally lost. Her hair was wet and hung down past her shoulders. Her face was so pale, and the bruises stood out vividly against the white of her skin. She was clutching my socks in one hand. Again, I felt the need to comfort her, and without thinking, held out my hand in a gesture of welcome. I watched her look from my face to my hand, then her arm raised and she moved forward, painfully slowly, placing her hand in mine. I smiled at her and squeezed her hand softly; mindful of how sore it must be with the bruises on it. “Need help with those socks?” I asked gently.
She nodded. “It, um, really hurts to bend over. I couldn’t get them on.”
I felt my anger flare. Of course it hurt; no doubt her ribs were badly bruised if not cracked. I tamped down my anger and knelt down, quickly tucking her feet into my socks. I grimaced. Even her feet had bruises on them.
Fucking bastard, whoever he was.
I stood up. “Rather large, but they’ll keep your feet warm.” I smiled at her and was rewarded with a shaky little smile in return. I guided her to the table and then set down a plate of eggs and toast in front of her. I took a seat beside her and held up the coffee pot in silent invitation. She nodded and I filled her cup, watching as she added cream and a tiny amount of sugar before stirring it and taking a sip.
“Thank you,” she breathed quietly. “I love coffee.” She smiled, and then froze, staring at her cup.
“What is it?” I asked, startled. Did she think I had added something to the coffee? Was she in more pain?
She looked up at me, confused. “How can I not know my name, yet I know I love coffee? Or, how I take it? I didn’t even think before adding the cream and sugar. That doesn’t make sense!” I saw her chin begin to quiver again.
I looked at her, perplexed, unsure how to respond. Then I shrugged my shoulders. “I have no idea. Maybe after we eat, we can try to figure it out. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I smiled. “Eat your breakfast then and we’ll see what we can find.” I pushed her plate towards her. She could use some food. She was far too thin, in my opinion.
I smiled as I watched her pick up her fork and take a bite.
“It’s good. Thank you.”