Letters in Time by Reiss Susan (i love reading books .txt) đź“•
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- Author: Reiss Susan
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“That’s a good idea. Rest is what you need.”
“You know,” I began tentatively. “What I did last night was not crazy,”
He shot me a look of total disbelief.
"How am I supposed to find out if I don't push the limit?" My argument sounded weak even to my ears. One glance at the expression on his face proved it wasn't flying with him either. "Okay, I pushed the limit," I said in a soft voice. "I don't want to quarrel with you. TJ, I'm sorry. What I did was wrong. I'm not as strong as I thought. I'm grateful you were here to help me last night and this morning."
“Well, if that was an apology, it’s accepted and you’re welcome. One other thing, you might think about canceling your P.T. appointment for today and take it easy unless…” he added quickly. “You want them to check out your leg.”
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary, but I’ll talk with them. Maybe you could give me the phone before you leave. You do have to leave, don’t you?”
He nodded slowly. "Yes, I do. I have a couple of appointments this morning. Maria is due a little later so she can help you."
“That’s fine.” I held out my empty mug. “As long as I can get a refill before you go.”
He responded with a big grin and was off.
I heard him rummaging around in the kitchen, but I didn't care. The full dose of painkillers had lifted me onto a soft cloud. I put my head back to enjoy the relief.
I must have drifted off again, because the next thing I knew, there was a tray sitting on the table next to me, filled with plates of scrambled eggs, Canadian bacon, fresh toast with orange marmalade, and another mug of coffee. My mouth started to water. I didn't realize how hungry I was. While reaching for the fork, I stopped when I noticed the other thing sitting on the tray. It was a crudely shaped daisy with petals made of clay, painted pink and white, stuck on a toothpick firmly planted in a tiny flowerpot. I couldn’t stop the tears filling my eyes as a memory came flooding back.
TJ came over and knelt next to me, his face filled with worry. “Hey, hey. I didn’t mean to make you cry. Of course, my cooking isn’t the greatest, but you haven’t even tasted it. No fair crying till you give my breakfast a chance.”
When he didn't get a laugh in response, he dropped the comedy and rubbed my arm gently. "Is the pain bad? I can call the doctor or an ambulance. Tell me what to do," he suggested with a deepening Southern accent that showed his concern.
I bit my lip, trying to get control again. I felt terrible letting my grief for Uncle Jack bubble to the surface in front of TJ.
I caught him looking at the tray intently then he snapped his fingers. “I get it! You don’t like the flower. My mother always says a breakfast tray is better with a flower. I didn’t want to waste time looking for a fresh one while the eggs got cold. I found this one in a cupboard. But really, Emma, I think crying about it is a bit extreme.”
TJ had the perfect antidote for my tears: laughter.
I burbled my response. "No, no, the flower is perfect. When I was little, I made it for Uncle Jack. He loved daisies. I wanted him to have one every morning, even in the winter."
He nodded slowly and looked away. I had to remember that I wasn't the only one who had lost a special friend.
Quickly, I added, “I’m so glad you put it on the tray. It brought back a wonderful memory. Thank you.”
He cleared his throat and said in a husky voice, “Maybe I should quit while I’m ahead and take the tray away before you try the eggs and bacon.”
I made a grab for the tray. "Don't you dare," I said emphatically. "This is my breakfast and nobody is taking it away, not even you, sir!"
He stood up and saluted. “Yes, ma’am!”
He looked at his watch. "If you're okay, I need to get moving. I have just enough time to get back to my house to shower and change."
Suddenly, it hit me. “You were here all night?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
I covered my face with my hands in embarrassment. “I am so sorry. I never meant to impose on you like that.”
“Well, what do you say we make sure it doesn’t happen again?” He moved crutches and a walker within my reach. “I found it in the coat closet. Maybe it will give you more support until you feel ready to go back to the crutches.” I started to say something, but he wouldn’t let me. “You’ll be doing it for my sake, not yours.” He pointed at the deep ruby red upholstered club chair. “That chair from your apartment looks good, but it’s not that comfortable for sleeping.”
I laughed. My emotions were riding a roller coaster. "Okay, I promise." I held up my hand. "I'll be a good girl. At least until you come back." I giggled. It felt good to laugh.
TJ settled me in with a thermos of coffee, the telephone, my laptop, and a couple of library research books. I wanted to ask him
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