I quietly laid out the groceries, put some away, and found where he stashed his cutting board and knives. His kitchen was beautiful and I could see his handiwork all over the place, but it was sparsely stocked. I managed to dig out a big soup pot and a large wooden spoon and I wondered what he ate each night because his place was prettyempty.
I contented myself with chopping vegetables and crept over to him every little while just to make sure he was okay. Within twenty minutes, I had a massive, heavily seasoned pot of chicken noodle soup on, so I turned it to a low simmer and settled in on his couch forawhile.
The television was on low and turned on to a history documentary. Whether or not he had been watching it was anyone's guess, but he did seem like the kind of guy who would enjoy something like this. I stared blankly at the tv for at least an hour before I got up to check on the soup. I lifted the lid, gave it a stir and a taste, and adjusted the seasonings a little bit. I loaded up his cabinets and pantry with the rest of the staples I'd brought. It would last him at least a week or two. Then I'd lecture him about his bachelorfridge.
Two hours later,Martin began to stir. When he was completely awake, he was looking around the room completely bewildered. "Why does it smell so good inhere?"
I ladeled out a bowl of the soup and brought it to him along with a glass of water and some decongestant tablets. "Because I made you sustenance. Canned soup is crap and I've thrown it allaway."
He frowned at me but took my offering. I handed him a spoon and sat down across fromhim.
"Are you going to watch me eattoo?"
I gave him a bored look. "If I need to. If you're a good boy and eat every drop of that, I'll give you somecandy."
His eyes flashed at that one, and I didn't think he was thinking about the sweet kind ofcandy.
"I'm always a good boy," he said through his scratchyvoice.
I felt my face soften. "I know," Isaid.
He blinked at me. His brow wrinkled a little as he focused on his soup. "This is reallygood."
"Thank you. It's a family recipe." I looked around his place. There were no pictures, no knick knacks. It was sparse, and seemed a little lonely. He saw mylook.
"I just finished up some work in here. Everything is still in boxes. It's not as sparse as itappears."
"When did you getsick?"
He had the grace to look chagrined. "A couple of days ago. I called in sick, but the next day, I started feeling rough." He chuckled. "I got a good dose of karma overit."
I didn't want to bring anything else up. I just wanted him to be okay. "I'll stay heretonight."
He opened his mouth to protest. "No," I said. "Your fever was dangerously high when I got here. Just let me dothis."
Martin gave a begrudging nod. "Fine, there are blankets in the chest in thehall."
"Good." I stood and went to get one. Full dark was just starting tofall.
"I'm probably at the end of this," hesaid.
"Uh huh." I snagged a soft, light blue blanket twice the size of me and settled myself in his recliner. "Then I won't be here long, willI?"
Martin grunted atme.
I was asleep within just a few minutes, the sound of a documentary lulling me into a deepslumber.
Martin
She was beautiful.And in my house. She stormed in like a Valkyrie earlier today looking hellbent on giving me a piece of her mind and yet, when she realized I was really sick, she shut it off like a faucet and ended up taking care of me. Katie was tired and...something else. I could see it in the shadows of her eyes. Something hadhappened.
Isighed.
I was in love withher.
As much as I tried to fight it, I'd somehow fallen head over heels for someone who had zero desire to ever walk down the aisleagain.
Damnit.
