Page 55 of Married With Lies
The semi-frown fades a little as she scans me more closely. “You look better than you did when you got here. But you’ll get too skinny unless you eat more. Follow me.”
Though I’d challenge anyone to point to an ounce of fat on my body, I’m also in no danger of getting too skinny. Hitting the gym five times a week tends to add a lot of muscle and I have strong incentives to keep that muscle. It’s much harder to be intimidating if your arms look like spaghetti noodles. Nonetheless, I’m not putting up an argument if someone wants to lead the way to food.
Peggy moves with the speed of a racewalker, zipping down the hallway, turning a sharp right and not looking back until she walks through a doorway and arrives in her tiny kitchen. It’s filled with bright colors. Yellow walls. An ancient green fridge. Mismatched dishtowels galore, all of them appearing handmade. There’s an orange cat sitting on the counter beside the sink. A black cat sits atop the fridge and glares with yellow eyes.
“Sit,” Peggy orders and gestures to a round table covered with a patchwork tablecloth.
I’ve barely eased into a wooden chair with numerous bald spots before she dumps a plate in front of me. There’s a slice of coffee cake, a cluster of red grapes and a trio of cheese wedges. Not bad.
“Thank you,” I say.
Peggy nods and pours water from a ceramic tea kettle. “I don’t have time to deal with any grown men who fall over because they don’t have the sense to eat.” She deposits a red mug beside the plate. “Drink this too. All of it.”
I’ve already taken a bite of the coffee cake but when I catch a whiff of the mug, I get a really weird feeling. And somehow my mother’s face dances across my mind.
“What is this?” I point to the cup.
She’s now chopping up green leaves and doesn’t look up. “Ginger tea. With some lemon balm. It’ll help you heal.”
That explains the sudden memory flash.
My mother’s day never officially started until she drank her morning cup of tea. Even after she got sick and had no appetite, she still wanted her tea. When she reached the point where she couldn’t get out of bed I’d make her tea for her. On the last morning she was alive I heated a cup of water in the microwave and added a bag of her favorite mixed herbal blend. As I walked into the room, she was lying on her side in the bed she’d shared with my father for fifteen years. I can still feel the grip of fear, still hear the way she struggled to breathe. But when I carefully placed the mug on her nightstand, she opened her eyes and gave me an angelic smile.
“Always look out for your brother. And Cale, there’s one more thing I want you to know…”
“Are you going to faint again?” Peggy asks, sounding none too pleased. “From the way you’re staring off it into space it looks like you’re thinking about it.”
I pop a cheese wedge into my mouth. “No. And I never fainted.”
“You certainly did, young man.”
“I’m also not young.”
“Just how old are you?”
“Thirty four.”
“Ach, little more than a schoolboy.” She picks up a cat and nuzzles its whiskered face.
Another cat is beneath the table, scratching at the leg of my jeans. They seem to be multiplying.
“I’m a full decade older than Sadie,” I point out.
“Hmph,” Peggy says and sets her cat on the floor. “As if that matters. You could learn plenty from that girl.”
There’s nothing to be gained by arguing with Peggy right now. Anyway, it’s possible she’s right. Not about my immaturity but about Sadie. She’s possibly the most candid person I’ve ever met. In that way, we’re opposites. Sadie lays all her cards on the table for everyone to see. Meanwhile, I don’t like to reveal that I’m holding any cards at all.
Sadie’s two giant dogs come ambling into the room with their noses quivering. They gaze with longing at the food on my plate, drool dripping from the corners of their mouths, then stare at me with beseeching eyes. Peggy whistles and opens an orange cookie jar. The dogs scramble over, claws clicking on the hardwood floor.
“You boys will need to sit if you expect treats,” Peggy says in a stern voice.
Both dogs sit immediately. Peggy drops biscuits into their big mouths with a smile. There’s the sound of hinges squeaking and the dogs, recognizing the noise made by the main house front door when it opens, forget about begging for more treats and go running.
“Oh, there’s my babies! I’m so happy to see you too.” Sadie spends a couple of minutes doing the goo goo babytalk routine with the dogs and then steps through the door to Peggy’s kitchen. She does a quick double take when finds me eating coffee cake at the table.
“Yup.” I swallow the food in my mouth. “I’m still here.”
Sadie squats down and allows two of Peggy’s cats to start climbing on her. “How’s the injury doing today?”