NaNoWriMo 2022
Soaking
American Kingdom: Day 2.3
Previous scene:
As it turned out, we didn’t go to the ER. Brian and Marion led me west, to a lovely little apartment overlooking the Cooper River.
Brian opened the garage. “Stow the bikes here,” he said. “Let’s go collect your stuff.”
Marion looked at me. “If that’s okay? You don’t want all your possessions thrown in the river?”
I nodded. Hell, it’s what I would have done.
We had about an hour before the tour group returned and with three of us on the job I was able to pile the car — a Lincoln Aviator, heck these folk must be doing okay — high with everything I didn’t want to risk losing. Clothes, cosmetics, books, my laptop, some pictures…
Perhaps a few more clothes than I really needed, but hey…
We hauled my possessions upstairs and into the second bedroom, a sweet room with floral wallpaper and lacy curtains overlooking a courtyard garden.
Just what I needed.
“We’re only here for two more nights,” Brian said, setting down a box of books in a corner, “but it’s somewhere you can call your own while you are looking for a longer solution.”
I began to thank him again but he shrugged it off.
“It’s a room that comes with the apartment. It would go empty with just the two of us. Glad to see it get some use. And to have someone to talk to in the evening; Marion stopped laughing at my jokes a long time ago.”
“You shoo,” she said, motioning him out. “You’re cooking dinner.”
“And,” she went on, “I’m going to run you a bath and then bring you a glass of something nice from California.”
I peeled my clothes off and eased on a fluffy white robe provided by the thoughtful Airbnb host. I hope they also provided some heavy-duty soap. A few minutes in a hotel powder room aside, I was in sore need of a good tub. Heck, I was sore all over.
The bathtub was filling up with warm scented water under a thick layer of foaming suds. Just what the doctor ordered. I slipped off the robe and hung it on a hook. Gosh, my left side was one long mess of swollen flesh and grazing, quite apart from the crusted blood over my elbow.
I peered at my behind in the mirror. The first tints of a massive bruise were making my buns glow. I was going to have trouble sitting down for a while.
Then again, did I really want to be trim and fit and healthy, living in ignorance and delusion? Just knowing the truth about my partner — ex-partner, sorry — was worth the price.
Enough admiring my battered body! I winced as I raised one leg after another to step over the lip of the tub and groaned again as my bruised backside encountered the unyielding enamel of the tub.
The warm perfumed water was heaven against my skin. The flow from the tap was tickling my toes and bubbles were rising against my nose as I leaned my head and shoulders back. The tension felt like cables pulling my body into a tight coil. I needed to unwind.
This was so good. Sooooo good. I let myself relax, paying attention to each part of my body, taking stock of its hurt, stiffness, position. Acknowledging my physical self one limb at a time, letting each body part relax before moving on to the next.
With my free hand I began scrubbing away at the skin, fingers teasing out the ingrained dirt, probing the hard knots of muscles beneath. Self-massage wasn’t perfect but with no Ted to oil me up and rub me down, this was as good as it got.
There was a knock on the door. “Molly, can I come in now?”
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