Lorraine’s toes were pretty and her feet were soft. Bill worked on the first foot methodically, taking it in both hands and gently, but not too gently, squeezing along the sides and then on the top.
“Be better with some oil,” he said.
“Be better with the kids not here,” Lorraine said. “Then you could put the oil all over.”
“Very funny.”
“Not meant to be funny.”
“We could still play with oil.”
“Let me get you some underclothes so you can shower.”
“Let me finish your feet.”
“Do it later, after we shower.”
Bill got up and went to the bathroom. He was already in the shower when Lorraine came by with the underclothes. She knocked on the door then left the clothes on the closed toilet seat.
“I’ll start some coffee,” she said.
Bill enjoyed a long shower. He had not slept in nearly two days now and he was tired but not too spaced out yet. Taking inventory of himself, he thought he could always pop a pill, upper if Lorraine kept him up, downer if they just went off to sleep.
He dried himself on a fluffy, clean towel Lorraine had left him and dressed quickly in the new underclothes and back into his jeans. When he came out of the bathroom and into the living room, Lorraine was in a house dress and robe, sitting on the sofa, sipping coffee.
“I’ll grab a quick shower then be right back,” she said. “I burned most of the stuff he left. It made a pretty good bonfire out in a campgrounds I know of. But there were some fresh packs of stuff which I tucked away. Now I’m glad I didn’t chuck ’em.”
Lorraine had left him a mug of coffee. Working together as they did, she knew how he took it. Bill sat down as she got up. He took a sip and lay back.
“Feel free to fall asleep, I’ll set an alarm for five-thirty and won’t disturb you if you do.”
Bill didn’t fall asleep. Eyes closed, first thing that came to mind was what he and Mary had to do in the morning. Since they’d been more busy than expected, it was a longer list than usual, and then on top of it was New Year’s Eve coming along. They had a party booked in the party room which meant even more prep of different stuff. At least it was a set meal so it could be served and except for replenishing items, the work was done. They were opening late on New Year’s Day, only doing dinner and running a prime rib special.
Next thing that came to mind was how messed up he was. He didn’t dwell on these things, but somewhere in there, every now and then, he knew the anxiety and worry that attacked him constantly were not supposed to be doing that. He knew he drank too much and used too many drugs. He knew it was totally off the hook that he messed around with women even as he was just about to be married, when he had a fiancé, Jesus Christ. They were just another type of drug, a make-me-feel-better drug. Still, on some level, after not being wanted and accepted for most of his short life, it was nice to be in demand.
Jesus Christ, he said to himself again. It was all messed up. He was all messed up.
He was almost dozing off when Lorraine returned. She carried blankets for him, and covered him with one, but he sat up and pulled her down next to him. He kissed her, a long, passionate kiss. She kissed back but did not let it linger too long.
“The kids,” she whispered.
So she turned off the light and they both lay down on the sofa, she on one end, he on the other. He took up that first foot again and started into a full foot massage.
The next thing he knew it was five-thirty and Lorraine’s alarm was ringing.
