HUM by Dan Hawley (chromebook ebook reader TXT) 📕

CHAPTER 27

Jason parked the SUV and ascended in the elevator until it reached his floor. Inside the apartment, Samantha was hunched over her phone, sitting on the couch. Her dark hair was in a long braid that flowed down her white bathrobe. Jason kicked off his shoes, shrugged off his jacket, and walked into the living room with the white box in his hand. Samantha looked up at him and then down at the box.

“How did it go?” she asked as she put her phone down on the coffee table and straightened up.

“They need more data, I guess.”

Jason sat down on the couch beside Samantha and placed the monitor on the coffee table in front of them.

“I gotta wear this stupid thing tonight,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“Well, at least they’re working on it. The doctor didn’t say anything else at all?”

“He tried reassuring me that everything was pretty much normal, but I dunno if I fully believe him. He wasn’t telling me everything. I know that for sure.” “Well, he probably doesn’t want to say anything until he has more information. I’m sure if he said things looked normal, then that’s a good thing, Jay.” “I guess,” Jason said. “Not much I can do but wear the stupid monitor anyway.”

The room was quickly darkening as the sun set behind the earth. Jason got up and turned on a few lights to inspect the contents of the white box.

Samantha stood up, gathered her fuzzy robe around herself, and headed to the kitchen to fix dinner. She was craving comfort food; some good ol’ home cookin’.

She popped open the fridge and frowned. They were going to need groceries soon, but there was enough here for dinner. She pulled out two fat chicken breasts and a bag of carrots and set them on the island. She opened a door under the island and grabbed two handfuls of mini potatoes. Meat and potatoes might just be the best comfort food there is, she thought.

The kitchen soon came alive with the sounds of washing and cutting and frying and boiling. Samantha moved gracefully between tasks, a blur of white cotton as she chopped the carrots and checked on the meat.

The complex smell of rosemary mixed with garlic hit Jason’s nostrils like a truck, setting his mouth to water. He inhaled deeply in his seat at the island.

“Gooooddamn, that smells good,” he said with a smile, his dimples popping from under his beard. Samantha looked up from her carrots and smiled back; the earlier tension of the day seemed to have floated away on the scent of seared chicken and herbs.

Jason found himself grateful she wasn’t cooking steak but couldn’t find the reason why.

He smiled again. “We should go for a walk tonight; looks like it’s going to be a nice one.”

“Yeah?” Sam replied and looked out the window. The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and fierce color marked the clear, early evening sky. “Sounds like a plan,” she said as her eyes went back to her work.

“Sure you don’t need a hand?”

“Too many cooks in the kitchen, Jay.”

* * *

After dinner and after Jason had finished the dishes, the couple put on their shoes and jackets and left the apartment. With a few dings of the elevator, they were in the lobby. Chester was sitting behind the concierge desk with his nose buried deep in a book. “Evening, Chester,” Jason said with a hidden smile.

“Good evening, you two. How are you tonight?” “Not too bad,” Jason said as he and Samantha slowed their pace. “You’re the concierge tonight?”

“Good help is hard to find,” Chester replied with a lighthearted sigh. “The new guy was a no-show, so I gotta pick up the slack.”

Chester’s eyes squinted from his masked smile and he added, “I don’t mind, though. It lets me catch up on my reading.”

Chester pointed at his book.

Jason chuckled and Samantha smiled as they continued to the lobby door.

“Fair enough, sir,” Jason said. “We’ll see you later.” Chester nodded and went back to his book as the couple left the lobby and stepped onto the sidewalk.

The night was cool, but not offensively so. The air blowing in from the harbor filled their lungs with fragrant ocean mist and the smell of salt and fish. They walked down towards the seawall, close to where the collision with the cyclist had occurred. Jason rubbed his shoulder at the thought.

Other people were also walking along the seawall, enjoying the calm night. Mostly other couples, holding hands as they quietly strolled beside the ocean. The dark water lapped lazily against the manmade shore. There were no waves, no surf, but the water still moved against the rocks and around the barnacle-covered wooden piers and white, fiberglass boats as if it were alive.

It was alive after all, wasn’t it? The ocean teemed with life: a vast ecosystem of flora and fauna, so diverse and different yet depending on each other for survival. The ocean itself took on the properties of a living being, didn’t it? Breathing its tides in and out as it was pushed and pulled by the moon. The ocean was called a body of water for a reason.

“I want to go home.”

The words brought Jason out of his lull. The way the pure white boats floated on the black water was hypnotizing. The occasional gull cried out as it made its way to its evening resting place. Heat flared in Jason’s guts.

“We already went over this,” he said dismissively. Sam stopped and leaned against the railing, looking out into the harbor. Jason slowed, and then turned and joined in beside her.

“We…” he began.

“I don’t mean today,” she interrupted, “it doesn’t have to be today. But I want to go home, Jason.”

She used his full name, which meant she was as serious as the cold, hard look in her eyes. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to fight this one. And why