Waiting on Sarah Grace

Feed Me

My eyes snap open as I wake up startled, I'm not sure what woke me up. Looking around disoriented, I recognize my own room. The window is still open, and the late afternoon May sun is filtering through the magnolia tree in the back yard. Home, I'm finally home and sleeping in my own bed, with my cat. I wonder where everyone is. I really need to go to the bathroom, now how's that gonna happen with one leg, one arm and broken ribs? I slowly sit up and try to scoot to the edge of the bed; the bathroom door is just right there, surely, I can hop on one foot and hold on to the furniture to get there. But then there's getting up and down, and who's going to help me in the tub? This just got complicated. Still sitting in the same spot and getting more and more frustrated, when the door slowly opens, and Shooter sticks his head in.

"Hey! I thought you would still be asleep."

"I just woke up and I need to pee."

He walks across the room and lifts me up and carries me to the bathroom, setting me down next to the cabinet, so I have something to hold onto for balance.

"You got it from here? I sure hope so, cause I don't think I can restrain myself if I have to pull your shorts down."

Giving me a heated look like he could eat me, and I'm sure that's where his mind has gone, by the way he is licking his lips. I roll my eyes at him and try to shove him out the door, but I've got one good arm and no balance. Thankfully he catches me just when I start to fall. Laughing at me.

"Sorry baby, I can't help myself. But are you good?"

"Yes! Just go."

He steps out with a smile and winks at me, closing the door behind him. Turning to face the toilet, this should be interesting.

I somehow managed on my own. After washing my hands, I reach for the door at the same time it opens inward.

"I heard the water running. Let me help you back to bed."

"No, I'm tired of lying in bed. Help me sit on the loveseat. I need my laptop, so I can write the memorial for pops to read tomorrow."

He picks me up, again, and carries me across the room to the loveseat.

"Do you really enjoy hauling me around all the time?"

"Baby, I'm just making up for lost time. That, and I can't keep my hands off you."

With my laptop up and running, I need to attempt to write what my mother meant to me. I can't summarize that, but I'll try. As I start to type, and my tears begin to fall. Not the sobbing, gut wrenching crying that I've done this week; it's the silent tears of grieving someone who you weren't ready to lose. Remembering everything about her, because I'm afraid I might forget something. What if I forget the sound of her voice or the way she hummed while she did the books for the bar, or the look she had in her eyes when she watched me conquer a goal? That's what this is, things are changing, and I wasn't ready. I have to move forward into the unknown and I'm scared. Finishing up my memorial and reading over it for the third time, I print it out and let Shooter read it. He's quiet for a couple of minutes, then looks up at me and nods with a smile on his face.

"That's perfect love, I'll take it down to your dad when he gets back. They went to the grocery store to stock up, since it looks like we're gonna be here for the next three weeks, at least."

"Ok, I can't get downstairs to cook and I'm not a very good cook anyway. Just warning you now, you don't have to worry about gaining weight like most men who get married."

"I'll cook baby, I won't let us starve. We do need to make some plans for the near future. Your dad is leaving as soon as your aunt leaves town and he's taking your horse with him. He said he'll find a place close to stable him and if not, he'll have something built at the compound. That leaves the house and bar. Your brother suggested renting the house out for three to six months or using it as an air bnb. If you want to go that way, we need to store everything personal and whatever you decided you'll need to go through your mom's things at some point."