Chapter 7

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Lorraine followed us into the room with a tray full of toast and juice. Frank had been eating toast every day for every meal since it was just about the only thing he could keep down. He hadn't thrown up for a long time minus the elevator incident, so the toast and apple juice were doing the trick. I shared the toast with him most of the time, sometimes having salad or fruit as well. Since Frank could hardly ever finish two slices of toast without feeling sick, he'd let me have the rest. It brought me back to a simpler time, reminding me of when my grandpa's friend fed me french fries.

Frank took it extra easy that day and only ate one piece of toast. He finished all of his juice though and I was super proud. After we ate, I hugged his waist, just trying to be close to him. He was breathing a little heavy and he kept closing his eyes. I moved with him as he snuggled into the bed, allowing him to rest.

"I still feel sick and everything is cramping up," Frank said. "Its really bad, but at least there's food in me. That seems to help."

I squeezed him against my body but he protested the movement, pushing his body down into the bed to stop me. He made a soft noise to apologize for not accepting the movement and looked down at me.

"It hurts too much," he explained tiredly.

I nodded in understanding, feeling bad for trying to move him closer. I felt like I'd done something to make it worse and moved away from him, rolling onto my side to face away from him. I could feel Frank move to look at me to make sure I was okay but I tried to ignore him and let him be. I felt Frank grab my hand but Lorraine came and gave him his medicine. With some difficulty I could feel him move to the edge of the bed to take it, but I still didn't look at him.

After Lorraine left, Frank got close to me again. He breathed on me and put his head on my shoulder, looking at me with his big dark green eyes. He giggled right in my ear and rolled around until he was on his stomach beside me. I knew he was trying to cheer me up, and it worked. I turned to face him again and brought myself closer to him, hugging him gently. I was glad he was moving and seeming to be okay again. He was in one of his cuddly moods and I loved seeing him like that. He rolled onto his back again and looked at me like an excited dog.

"You wanna talk about anything?" he asked, settling a little bit.

I did have a lot of questions, and if I was going to live with him, I needed to know some things.

"What is your wife like? Do you think I'll get along with her?"

He smiled wide.

"You'll love her. She's the best person I've ever known and I'm so excited to see her again."

I could tell he could probably go on forever; I loved the passion he had in his voice.

"She's Jamia, right?" I asked, my question based on the tattoo he had on the back of his hand.

Frank nodded, still smiling. He was practically bursting with happiness and excitement for going home. I was getting excited too.

He showed me his other hand and let me have a look at it. I ran my hand over his soft skin and looked at the tattoo, which had a bow with 3 arrows and 3 letters in different places. I admired the artwork for a while and looked up at him again.

"And those are your kids, right?"

"Yep, twin girls and a son."

He looked so proud, and the more we talked, I could tell he was getting more excited to leave. I was feeling the same but I couldn't help but feel scared. I never liked staying with people I barely knew, and though I was starting to get to know Frank very well, it would be a strange environment with strange people.

Frank wrapped his arm around me and breathed in deeply. I watched his stomach move and expand with his breaths, able to see when his stomach cramped. His whole body seemed to tense up when it happened, his face contorting painfully. Within a few minutes, though, he seemed to feel better and relaxed, eventually falling asleep.

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