Another Love Story

Two

I glanced over and saw Trish in the doorway.

"Honey." The one word conveyed everything. I noticed she was carrying a travel bag. She closed the door and within a few minutes, she was spooning me under the covers. She maneuvered her hands around my waist and laid her cheek against my back.

It was then that I realized that I had not stopped trembling. I was cold. So cold. It was all the way down in my bones and I couldn't warm up.

We stayed like that for almost 45 minutes. One episode ended and another began. Gently, Trish released me. She got up and got settled on the other side of my Queen size bed with the laptop between us. I unplugged my head phones and we watched five episodes in silence.

At about 8pm, she got up and went to make something to eat. She brought food back to the room and set some out for me. We kept watching. I didn't go near the food. Eventually, she cleared the plates and my old tea. She returned and went to take a shower. The series wasn't working anymore. I was starting to think and that was not allowed. I got out of bed to wander the apartment a little and get circulation in my legs.

The coffee table looked a little different. It took me another minute to realize that it was because the picture of Sam and I was gone. We had gone on a mini vacation in Jinja shortly after New Year's. We had both spent Christmas with our respective families and wanted a chance to reconnect and plan for the year ahead. In the photo I had framed for my coffee table, we were standing in the lawn at sunset. The sun at our backs, Sam directly behind me with his arms around my waist. My hands were over his and we were both smiling at the camera.

I remembered one night by the fireplace in a secluded section of the resort hotel when Sam shared with me his desire to make his political ambitions come true this year.

"It is going to strain us a bit. I may not have as much time as before and I may need to split my time between Parliament and Hoima almost exclusively. But the fact that we acknowledge this ahead of time and plan for it means that we have a better chance of coming out on the other side successfully so that I can make you a politician's wife."

I had laughed and blushed.

"Chellie, I'm as serious as the day I asked you out two years ago; serious as a heart attack. You are the anchor of my life and the ace up my sleeve. I need you to stay grounded. You're what makes this all worth it. I want you to be proud of me, babe."

I had reached out and clasped both his hands in mine. "I am proud of you, already. My heart is full. You make me happy and that is all I need."

He had leaned down and kissed my hands. "I appreciate that. I hope we pencil in these vacations every few months this year. I know I'm going to need them."

The memory drifted away as I looked around the living room and realized all the knickknacks in my house related to Sam were gone, right down to the mug he usually took coffee in when he visited.

I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for Trisha. I let it flow through me and block out all the other things I was struggling with, at least for the moment.

My appetite had still not returned. When I got back to the bedroom, Trisha had made up the bed for us. She completed turning down the covers and we wordlessly slid in beside each other.

She was asleep within the next half hour and I listened to her breathing until my heart stopped racing long enough for me to fall asleep.

*

On Sunday morning, we slept in. I sat up when Trisha rolled out of bed. She returned moments later with a package. Wordlessly, she went to the curtains and drew them open. The sulking phase was clearly over. She opened the package and got out a brand-new phone. She set it on my bedside table.

Next out of the package were 2 liters of ice-cream; one in my favorite flavor and the other in hers. She handed me my ice-cream and then climbed back under the covers with me.

She put on another series which we were both following and settled back to start on her treat. I carefully opened my ice-cream and took the first spoon. It was a shock to my system. After the first three spoons, I got back my sense of taste and settled beside Trisha against the headboard to enjoy the series.

It felt like a typical sleep over and made me begin to feel like myself. After a few episodes, we powered down the computer. It was noon. Trisha urged me out of bed with her first full sentence of the weekend.

"Join me on the balcony," she said.

I kicked away the covers and slid from the bed. We walked to my small balcony. She had wine on ice, cubes of cheese and paint easels set up. We navigated our way to sitting in front of our respective easels, with the paint palette between us and wine glasses at our other sides.

We painted in our pajamas, while sipping expensive wine and nibbling on cheese. Neither of us could paint for any accolades and we didn't have particular images in mind (we certainly were not sketching the backyard of my apartment complex or the garden beyond).

Eventually, Trisha began to tell me a story about her dog. I was surprised at my shout of laughter. I couldn't believe that the sound was coming from me. We kept our wine glasses full all afternoon as we chatted lightly and laughed with the sun warming us.

Maybe I was a bit wine drunk and mellow but by 6pm, Trisha and I were giggling and chatting about a lot of random things. We had eaten two and a half trays of cheese to soak up the wine. It was all reckless and fabulous.

We watched the sun go down and then packed up our things and shipped them back in doors. We took turns in the shower and then set up a play list. We danced around my room a little bit, just like the old days. Eventually, we got back into the bed we hadn't made all day and fell asleep with the music on- because we could.

On Monday morning, we were both up early. I made breakfast while she took a shower. I put down fried eggs, toast and tea and then jumped in the shower. I chose a pantsuit and a trendy set of heels. Trisha was back from breakfast. She styled my hair; something she only did when we were going out on the town. I applied minimum makeup as she did my hair. When she finished, she squeezed my shoulder. I lay my hand over hers and held on tight. Our eyes met in the mirror in front of me; and clung.

After several moments, I stood up from the vanity stool and urged her to take my place. She sat down to do my makeup while I went to select a handbag.

Within fifteen minutes, we were ready to leave the house. I locked up and we left. I passed via a pharmacy to get my hand dressed before I went to work.