From Me to You [Complete]

36

My parents come once each through the day, and I briefly wake up to let them know I'm okay. They let me know I'm not missing anything too crazy in the rest of the cottage. Apparently it's been a very simple, relaxing day. My mom removes the tray and bowl from Jean's room. Both of them are glad to see I'm feeling a little better. I wish I could ask them about Michael, and what he is doing, but I don't know how to ask without making it super obvious that I like him. My body is grateful to absorb this rest, especially on this dreary day that makes it easy to sleep anyway.

According to the clock on the wall it's dinnertime when I wake up alone. I was dreaming about Robert taking me to a soup factory, but when we got there they only served cantaloupe. I shake my head at the ridiculousness that is my subconscious. The cottage is quiet around me. I hear my stomach gurgle – that chicken soup apparently isn't going to sustain me any longer. My nausea is gone, and I feel like I have finally gotten enough sleep. I'm a little groggy after sleeping for most of the day, but once I'm up and eating dinner I'll probably wake up fully. I slowly sit up, and listen carefully. Rain is still slowly coming down outside. I stretch my arms over my head and yawn. Ann was right. Today was a good day for this to happen, since it meant not missing a day of sunshine. Plus now I'm more recharged, in case Michael wants to go on another adventure sometime. Probably have to wait until the rain stops though.

I slide out from under the covers and cross to the door. I feel a little chilly, so I turn back and get out a sweater from the dresser to cozy up in. As I put it on I realize my hair is still hanging free from Ann's handiwork earlier. Still not sure what that was about. I wonder if I should leave my hair down, thinking about Michael liking it down yesterday. Maybe I'll save that for when we are alone. For now, I toss my hair up into its bun, taking a second to figure out a way for it all to fit without having to steal Ann's clips again. I take a deep breath, smooth out my clothes, which got a little wrinkly while I slept, and smile at myself in the mirror. Finally my eyes don't have giant circles under them. I head out the door, and down the hallway to the kitchen, where I can see lights and life.

"Amanda!" my mother exclaims with a smile as I stride into the kitchen –she seems much happier to see me up and about.

The adults are sitting around the kitchen table playing cards –euchre, I think– and the women seem to be winning from what I can see. Down in the living room, Robert, Andy, Jean, and Michael are playing Risk –Michael's favourite board game by far according to his letters. Ann is sitting in the chair across from them reading a book. They all look up at my mother's exclamation. Michael catches me eye for a second, and I look away, feeling a little giddy about how much I like him all of a sudden.

"Hi," I say hesitantly, and unfortunately my voice cracks from lack of use. My stomach takes that moment to fill the silence with a loud protest at the halt in its journey for food.

"Hungry?" Marc asks with a grin.

I smile sheepishly, "Yea."

"We just finished. I can heat something up for you," Alice says matter-of-factly, getting up out of her chair.

"Oh thanks," I say, trying to cover up that weird entrance by walking over to Alice's empty seat at the table. Out of the corner of my eye I glance at Michael, who has looked back down at the board. While his attention is on his next move, I momentarily enjoy watching him think and plan out his strategy. I sit down at the table and cross my legs, noticing how my whole body seems a bit weak – too many weird sicknesses have been happening lately I think.

"Sleep well?" asks my father.

"Yea," I reply truthfully –probably the best sleep I've had since I arrived here.

"It's in the microwave," says Alice, coming back around the table. "Do you want some salad or anything?"

"You'll have some of my pasta salad, right?" my mom asks, in that tone that means she has already decided for me. I don't mind since I actually like that salad. Alice obediently returns to the fridge to dole me out a serving.

To distract myself while I wait for my food, I pick up Alice's hand of cards my mom just dealt, and sort through them. The card game brings a slight smile to my face. During the school year my friends and I play euchre over the lunch hour –my friend Monica usually wins. I realize I haven't really been thinking about my friends so far this week. I know how much they want to hear about Michael, and if anything happened. I make a mental note to get in touch with them soon.

"Do you want to play the rest of my hand?" Alice asks over her shoulder from her place in front of the microwave watching my food.

Ilook down at her hand and consider if I can win the round. Taking note of theflipped up card in front of my mom –Monica says it's called the kitty card– I silentlyhooray that it's the 10 of the suit I want to call trump. "Sure," I say.