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Giving My All to You Sheryl Lister 2022/8/3 13:47:29

Faith ate a handful of almonds, drank more water and snacked on a few grapes, but she needed something of substance. She thought about going out briefly before remembering she didn’t have a car. She didn’t have time for this. Her cell rang, interrupting her mental tirade.

“Hey, girlfriend. Are you home yet?”

“Hey, Kathi. Yeah, I got home about three hours ago.”

“Glad to hear it. I get in tomorrow at noon and I’m staying until Monday. What’s the name of the hotel where you’re staying? I need to book a room.”

“No need. I have an extra bed.” She gave Kathi her room number and the hotel’s address.

“Even better. That way I can keep an eye on you. Do I need to stop and pick up groceries and stuff before I get there?”

“I have some food here.” Faith opened her mouth to say that she couldn’t cook with one arm, but decided against it. Kathi would change her flight in a heartbeat and be on the next plane out. “But we can go shopping for whatever you need once you arrive. There’s a grocery store a few miles away.”

“Okay. Is there anything you want from your place?” Faith had asked Kathi to check on her house until Faith returned.

“I don’t think so, but if I think of something later tonight, I’ll text you.”

“All right. See you tomorrow and make sure you rest.”

Faith laughed softly. “Yes, Mother.” They talked a minute longer and hung up.

Faith’s stomach growled. Back to the task of finding food. Determined to make it work, she pulled out a small skillet, butter and an egg. How hard could it be to scramble an egg with one hand? Five minutes later, she had her answer. She could stir the egg in the pan, but had difficulty scooping it out. As a result, she ended up burning most of it. Faith stared at the hard, brown bits on her plate and frowned. Sighing heavily, she dumped the inedible mess down the garbage disposal, set the pan in the sink and trudged back to the bedroom.

An hour later, a knock sounded. The clock on the nightstand read eight o’clock. Maybe housekeeping. She sat up gingerly, scooted off the bed and walked out to the front. She looked through the peephole and was surprised to see Brandon standing there. She quickly undid the locks and opened the door. “Brandon, hey. What are you doing here?” He had on a pair of basketball shorts and T-shirt that outlined his muscular chest and washboard abs.

He unleashed that mesmerizing smile and held up a white bag. “Thought you’d might have some trouble cooking.”

Faith sighed in relief. “Bless you. Come in.”

Brandon chuckled. “Sounds like you’re happy to see me.”

“You have no idea. Please tell me that what you have in that bag doesn’t require me to use a spoon and I’ll name my firstborn after you.”

His laughter filled the room. “Brandon is a nice name.” He carried the bag over to the table, took out a disposable container and opened it. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I took a chance on a club sandwich and French fries. Hope that’s okay.”

She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. “More than okay. Thank you.”

He sniffed and surveyed the room. “Were you trying to cook?”

“Yeah. I thought it would be easy to scramble an egg. It was. But by the time I could get it out of the pan with my left hand, it no longer resembled something edible.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You haven’t eaten anything since I left you?”

“I had a slice of cheese, five crackers, a handful of almonds and some grapes.” She shrugged. “It was the best I could do.”

“Then I’m glad I stopped by.”

“Me, too.” They fell silent.

“Well, I only came to drop off the food, so…and I really wanted to see you again.”

His soft confession made her pulse skip. And, truthfully, she had wanted to see him, too. Before she could talk herself out of all the reasons it would be a bad idea to spend more with him, she said, “Then why don’t you stay and keep me company.”

Brandon smiled. “I’d love to.” He seated her and took the adjacent chair.