Page 75 of Skipping Stones
“You’ll call me, or text if you need anything, right? I know you hate to lean on people, but now is the time. You can pay me back by rescuing me from my teenagers when you’re feeling stronger.”
Linney threw her head back and laughed heartily. “It’s a deal,” she agreed.
After Anna left, Linney went back to her online news and then puttered in the kitchen, making some soup and toast for lunch. She napped on the couch for a couple of hours and then did the exercises Ilse had drilled into her. Stretching her muscles felt good.
Linney poured herself a glass of water and took stock properly of the contents of her kitchen cabinets. She took out a bag of chocolate chips to make cookies. She beat together the butter and sugar and added eggs. Soon the other ingredients were added and she shaped small cookies and put the cookie sheet into the oven. The timer beeped ten minutes later. Linney’s glasses fogged annoyingly when she opened the oven door and her stomach grumbled. Easing the cookies off the pan and placing them on the rack to cool, she grabbed one for herself and groaned with delight over the melted chocolate goodness. Linney found a tin to put the cooled treats in and waited. Soon, she heard the school bus, and saw two children wearing backpacks that looked bigger than them jump out and run next door. She picked up her cookie tin and her cane and slowly made her way across the lawn.
* * *
Derek had a lunch box in his hand and a look of surprise on his face when he answered the door.
“Linney?”
“Are you going to let me in?” She lifted the tin slightly. “I made cookies.”
Derek pulled the door open. “Of course. Come in. Just watch out for the kids.” He heard the water turn off in the bathroom and the laughter of the children. “Leo, Ivy, come see your Auntie Linney.” They came barrelling out to join them, and despite all his warnings, threw themselves at her.
“Oohh!” Linney wasn’t prepared for that, and stumbled into Derek.
“Kids,” he reprimanded sharply, as he helped steady Linney on her feet. “We have to be gentle with Auntie Linney for a bit, remember?”
“Are you okay, Auntie Linney?” asked Leo repentantly.
“I’m just fine, Leo,” she replied brightly for the kids. But Derek could see through it and knew her confidence was shaken. “I brought you something. Maybe your dad will let you have it for your after-school snack.” Linney sat down at the breakfast bar and gestured for them to join her. The kindergarteners scrambled up onto the high stools and she opened the tin.
“Cookies!” exclaimed Ivy, bouncing with excitement. “Daddy, can we?”
“Yes you may,” he replied, emphasizing the grammar point and opening the fridge for some milk. “You’ll spoil them, Linney. Home baking is pretty rare around here.” He wiped out the lunch boxes and put reusable juice boxes in the dishwasher.
Linney listened as Leo and Ivy chattered away about their days. She nibbled on another cookie and Derek put a glass of milk in front of her with a wink. How many times had they had cookies and milk together after school, she wondered, remembering years gone by.
The kids slid off their stools to go and play.
“I’ll let you get on with your evening,” she said to Derek.
“Thank you for the cookies,” said Ivy shyly.
“You’re welcome, Ivy. We’ll do it again soon, okay?” She started toward the front door and banged into the corner of a book shelf with her shoulder. “Ouch!”
Derek was at her side immediately. She shrugged him off and rubbed her shoulder. “I have to get used to this. I’ll see you tomorrow, Derek.”
* * *
Linney was more upset than she’d let on. As she made her way slowly across the lawn all she could think about was how she’d turned back into the awkward, klutzy kid she’d been. The capable and independent woman with a successful career had disappeared. She felt fragile and her body still didn’t feel like her own. She was still frustrated as she climbed up the stairs to her porch. She wasn’t paying enough attention and caught her foot on the lip of the top step and had to catch herself from falling. Her humiliation was complete when she closed the door behind her and smashed her shin on the coffee table. Linney collapsed on the couch and sobbed as the loss of everything—her career, her flat in London, her independence, her lover—overwhelmed her. She cried and cried until there were no more tears left and she fell asleep.
When she woke, it was dark, and she was hungry. Checking her watch, Linney was surprised to discover it was almost midnight. She was stiff from sleeping on the couch for almost seven hours. Stretching, Linney picked up her cane and found leftover salad from the previous night in the fridge. She picked at it, leaning on the counter and then polished off two pieces of toast before peeling an orange. Hunger sated, but still sleepy, she lay down in bed and quickly fell back to sleep.
Linney was still feeling sorry for herself the next morning. Bruises were forming on her shoulder and shin, and her hip ached from the challenge of walking on uneven ground. She headed for the kitchen. Maybe coffee would shake this mood.
* * *
Derek noticed the kitchen lights on next door as he waited at the end of the driveway with the kids. When the school bus pulled away, he decided to check in on Linney rather than go back home right away. He jumped up the few steps to the porch and was just about to knock on the door when he heard the sound of shattering china.
“Linney, are you alright?” He was alarmed and knocked loudly.
“Go away, Derek.”
“Linney, what’s going on? Let me in.” Derek banged on the door again.