by Lisa Olsen
My lips quirked over that. “Taking a shower isn’t exactly running around willy or nilly. Besides, I don’t think I can rest until I wash away the smell of that place. I don’t want to climb into my nice clean bed like this.”
“Nope, no shower until you’ve had a chance to rest from the trip home,” she insisted, and I could tell I’d have a hard time arguing her out of that one from the mutinous cast to her face.
“How about I rest on the couch then?” My brown vinyl couch was surprisingly comfy and I liked to pretend it was made of real leather, it made me feel more stylish. “I’ll lie here like a potato.” I was already moving to plop down into my regular spot, and Mimsy followed, sniffing my ankles cautiously.
“Well… alright,” Daphne relented after a moment, knowing my stubborn nature. “But I’m going to make you some tea and then you can tell me all about what happened. Matt wasn’t at all specific when he calleeelhen he d me and Parker didn’t know much more either.”
My kitchen was open to the living room, the space separated by a breakfast bar and we could talk easily while she put the kettle on. There was a tiny balcony outside of the sliding glass door that the building manager laughingly called a deck, but there was barely enough room for two plastic chairs out there. Mimsy liked to sit out there with me though, and the overhang from the apartment above kept the rain off unless it was windy.
“You talked to Parker?” My brows rose a fraction over that. My boss was nice enough after you got to know him a little, but I hadn’t thought Daphne ever really spoke to him much before.
“Well sure, after Matty told me you’d been stabbed at work and the hospital said you couldn’t have any visitors, I went down there to find out if anyone saw anything. He was too busy bitching about all the hassle the cops gave him about not having proper safety lighting out in the alley, he wasn’t much help at all.”
Great, I had to contend with Parker being pissy with me when I got back to work on top of my missed shifts. That sounded like fun. “That figures. I almost die and he’s worried about the hassle of installing security lights,” I muttered.
“He did seem worried about you, if that helps. He seemed kinda broken up about it, guilty even. I just don’t think he knew how to vocalize it.”
Ah Daphne, ever looking for the good in people… I knew better, Parker wasn’t the sentimental type. Hopefully I’d get a few more days grace period before I had to go back and face him, and with any luck he’d cool down by then.
“Do you want blackberry or apple cinnamon?” Daphne held up the boxes of tea, giving each a light shake when she mentioned them.
“I’ll take blackberry, thanks, size="+0" face="Times New Roman">” I replied, settling more comfortably on the couch and patting the cushion next to me, but Mimsy still gave me a wide berth. “Stupid cat…”
“What?”
“Oh nothing,” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment. “This has been the weirdest week.”
Daphne made an inelegant snort. “You crack me up, Mercy. You get stabbed, spend the week in the hospital, almost die and then talk me into sneaking you out of there, and you that’s all you can say? It’s been a weird week?” A shake of the head was given.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered, leaning back against the couch.
“Okay, so tell me.” Daphne returned to the living room, mugs in hand, setting them down on the coffee table. Folding her legs under her on the couch beside me, she waited, eyes alight with anticipation.
I didn’t know how much to tell her. I didn’t want her to worry and I was afraid that if I told her about my incredible healing or the colors I was seeing, she might try and talk me into going back to the hospital for more tests. Or worse… call my mother.
Instead I focused on the one thing that might capture her interest enough to push those other issues aside. My mysterious stranger. “You know the guy who was in the alley getting stabbed before I showed up?”
Daphne nodded, she knew the basics at least.
“I could have sworn he was at the hospital too, visiting me when I was in intensive care.”
“But I thought you weren’t supposed to have visitors?” A disgruntled tone crept into her voice at having been denied the same privilege.
“No, I wasn’t, and the nurse said no one had been allowed in, so I figured I must have imagined it, right?” I licked my lips, forging on. “And then the next night I dreamed about him again, that he came to visit me while I slept. But not in a creepy, stalkerish way, more like he was looking out for me.”
Daphne nodded again, waiting for me to get to the good part she knew must be coming from my tone of voice.
“I figured it was all in my head, but when we left the hospital, I saw him on the street and he looked right at me.”
“And?” she prompted, leaning forward in her seat.
“And… that’s it, I saw him and he saw me and he definitely knew me, that’s all. Don’t you think that’s kinda weird?”
Doubt clouded her pretty features, and I could tell she searched for the right thing to say. “Yes, I guess so. But maybe he was coming to visit you? Maybe he found out you were out of the ICU and wanted to visit you to say thanks for saving his life?”
Obviously she didn’t think there was anything strange about that, but I couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more between us. A connection I couldn’t describe. “I just thought it was an odd coincidence to see him on the street like that.” I gave a half shrug.
“Tell me about him, was he cute?” Warming to the subject, she picked up a pillow and hugged it to her middle.
I couldn’t help but smile in response, it had been too long since we had some good girl talk over a guy. A while since I’d been in a real relationship, the last few guys face=" New Roman"> I hooked up with turned out to be total losers. The last one even asked me to pay for my half of dinner right after he gave me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. He ended up with a lap full of linguine and I had to catch the bus home.
“He was cute,” I grinned. “In a kind of scruffy way. Not in the ‘I’m cool, here is my perpetual unshaven look’ like Steve, remember Steve?” I made a face, oh how I wish I could forget him. “But in a cute, clueless sort of way. Like a big puppy.” I was explaining it badly, I knew that, but I didn’t think saying he dressed like a homeless guy would present the right mental image. “Tall, blonde and handsome though, what’s not to like?”
“Like a big puppy? I didn’t think that was your type. Isn’t that how you described Walter from work?”
Walter worked as a bouncer at the club. Despite the muscles and deliberately grim expression he wore at work, I found he was a gentle, almost bashful man. He was also a bit sweet on me, though I never felt a love connection there. “Walter is more like a big, loyal dog than a puppy,” I considered aloud. “He’s sweet and trustworthy but there’s no spark, you know?”
Daphne nodded, she got it. “But you feel a spark with this other guy?”
“I don’t know, I mean I’ve never even spoken to him.”
“So… maybe you should find this guy then? I bet the cops will track him down,” she suggested, blowing on her tea and I shook my head.
“No, the cops didn’t even know he’d been in the alley with me, they have no idea who he is. But the detective did seem interested in him, so maybe he’ll track him down.”
“No fair, the police got to visit you before I did?” Daphne pouted.
“Yeah, they came to see me practically as soon as I was awake. They already know who the guy was that attacked me though, that was pretty impressive.”
“They do? That was fast. Do they need you to pick him out of a lineup or anything?”
“I don’t know, they hadn’t picked him up yet when I talked to the guy. He seemed pretty confident they’d get him soon though.” I smiled at the recollection of the conversation. Detective Gates had been a much more personable and sympathetic figure than I’d been expecting from the poli
ce department.
“Hey wait a minute, I know that smile, was the cop cute too?” Daphne teased, and I felt my cheeks grow warm.
“He was… attractive, yes,” I admitted, remembering his engaging smile. “But come on, he’s a cop.” Not that I had anything against law enforcement, it just wasn’t something I’d really considered before.
Daphne snorted at that. “So? You don’t think they date? It’s not like you’re a criminal or anything. It wouldn’t hurt you to go out with a nice guy for a change.”
“Just because he’s a cop doesn’t mean he’s a nice guy,” I pointed out, reaching for my own tea that had turned a deep purple, the way I liked it.
“But was he?” she looked at me expectantly.
Definitely a nice guy, it was his defining characteristic. “Yeah, he was,” I admitted.
“You should call him up, ask him if he’s been able to track down the other guy. If he has then great, you can give your big blonde puppy a call. If not… then maybe you and the cop can get together for a little interrogation or something,” she waggled her eyebrows at me and we both laughed.
“Maybe I will. But I’m not doing anything today but taking it easy.” It was easier not to have the conversation with anybody else yet as to why I wasn’t in the hospital any longer.
“Good,” she nodded with approval. “I can stick around until two, then I’ve gotta get to work.” Daphne worked in a call center for a market research company. Which was a nice way of saying she was one of those annoying people who called you at dinnertime and asked you to take a survey about what brand of laundry soap you preferred. She landed me a job there once, but it wasn’t my thing. Personally, I could never take all the rejection. People were pretty damn rude to perfect strangers on the phone, but it suited her temperament fine.
“Okay thanks. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’m just gonna curl up and wade through some of my Netflix queue.” I am a big fan of streaming video, and Netflix is definitely worth its weight in gold for satisfying my need to re-watch favorite TV shows from when I grew up.
We chatted for a while, I walked her through the stabbing, at least the parts I could remember and caught up in general. She was dating someone new, and I wanted to hear all about that, of course. By the time Daphne had to leave for work, I was desperate for a shower. Even if I’d been as weak as a kitten, I would have dragged my mangy butt in there and let the water run over me. Even if I had to sit on the bottom of the tub. As it was I still felt fine, and as soon as I bolted the door after Daphne, I made a beeline for the bathroom and turned the water on.
Speaking of kittens, Mimsy grew less wary of me, and condescended to sit at my feet while I visited with Daphne, close but still out of reach for being patted. When I got up to go into the shower she followed me, sitting in her usual vantage point on the counter to watch, having a love/hate relationship with water.
The hot shower felt… amazing. I don’t know if it was because it had been a few days, or because of whatever change had come over my body since the stabbing, or secret option number three, but I lingered a lot longer than I needed to. I came out feeling relaxed and good, until I caught sight of my stitches in the steamy bathroom mirror.
I had no idea if they were supposed to be dissolving stitches or if they’d have to be removed, but it was clear they weren’t needed anymore. The skin beneath them looked completely knitted together, even smoother than it had that morning if possible. Picking up a pair of slender scissors from the bathroom counter, I carefully snipped through them and pulled the black threads="+lack th free with a pair of tweezers. Belatedly, I wondered if I should have sterilized things first, but it was too late. Except for the faint line across my belly I looked fine.
Better since I was clean, a healthy pink glow returned to my skin. The eyes were still startling to get used to and I was glad that Daphne hadn’t brought it up. For the moment all I wanted to do was pull on some comfy pajamas and curl up on the sofa like I promised. There was time enough to ponder what happened to me and why I felt like a stranger in my own body.
Chapter Four
There are few things important enough to drive me from my bed on a cold and rainy Seattle morning. I’ve never been much of a morning person, another reason why it suited me to work as a bartender in a nightclub. Running out of coffee was dire enough to force me to pull on some warm clothes and venture out into the drizzle.
Ordinarily I don’t mind the rain. You can’t live in Seattle and not be immune to it in some fashion, but I hate going shopping in the rain. It’s always tricky to try and balance an umbrella with the bags and everything usually ends up a soggy mess by the time you get home. But I had learned to pick my battles with my persnickety car and shopping was one that I battled on foot most days, preferring to leave the driving for when I really needed it. To get to work.
I had enough basics in the house to get me through a few days as long as Mimsy wouldn’t mind a bit of people food sprinkled in with her kitty food, but I couldn’t face the day without a real caffeine fix after being so many days without. Sometimes tea was good enough or even preferred when I felt like I wanted something soothing but in the morning, there was no substitute for a good cup of coffee. The stronger the better. After the week I had, instant coffee wasn’t going to cut it either.
Besides, I wanted to get out and stretch my legs for a bit. The afternoon and night before passed without any new or troublesome episodes. Alice from work even stopped by briefly to drop off my coat and purse that had been safely locked up in the manager’s office while I was out. We chatted for a while before she had to get in to the club, and she produced a card that everyone signed for me, even Parker. It was nice to be missed, and it brought a smile to my lips to see the card sitting on the breakfast bar in the kitchen.
My sleep was blessedly devoid of dreams, and I woke up feeling like a million bucks. Brutal stabbing? Complications from s<>urgery? Near death experience? Me? It was like it never happened. A short walk to the corner store seemed like just what the doctor ordered… if the doctor was blind to the fact that I had major surgery of course.
Once outside, I felt more like my old self. I even started to get used to the auras surrounding people. Less dazzled and more accepting them as part of what people looked like. It was a quick walk to the market and I smiled at Alexei, who manned the front counter. “Hey Alex, can I get a large, nonfat, no whip mocha please?” I ordered my usual. There were no markets in my neighborhood that didn’t have at least a small espresso stand in the corner. I think it’s some kind of law in Seattle that every establishment selling food must also sell delicious caffeinated beverages.
“Sure, you bet,” Alexei grinned, looking glad to see me. His family owned the store and only employed various family members to work there. On some days you’d be lucky and find Alex or one of the more Americanized relatives. On others, you’d have to stumble through a thick Russian accent to convey what it was you wanted and hope for the best. Alexei’s aura was a deep, forest green swirled with a medium blue and flecks of yellow, making me think of a tie-dyed t-shirt.
Picking up a hand basket, I moved through the store as he went to work making my mocha. While I was there, I decided I might as well pick mess well up a few other things, and moved slowly through the aisles, in no particular rush. The door opened a few minutes later, but I paid it no mind. Instead, I studied a package of cookies that looked an awful lot like Oreos, but the label was written completely in Russian; a dancing bear on the front with a cookie in his hand as big as his head.
I had just about decided to spend an extra buck and get the real Oreos instead, when I caught movement in my peripheral vision and looked up, shocked to see my mystery stranger standing at the end of the aisle. The second I looked up he immediately ducked his head down, shoulders hunching as he pretended to study a row of bottles on the endcap.
For a long moment I stood there gaping at him, too surprised to look away or approach him. As I watched, he looked up again and
saw me watching him. He took a half step to the left before he dropped his gaze again, moving all of two inches. As if that somehow made him less visible? I couldn’t help but giggle at that.
I sauntered closer to him, my eyes on the shelves while I watched him out of the corner of my eye. Somehow I had the feeling if I strode right up to him he might bolt, so instead I stopped about a quarter of the aisle away before I turned to face him in full. “Hi,” I gave him a tentative smile. “Do you live around here?” Why else would he be in a neighborhood market, unless he was following me…
“Who are you talking to?” Alexei stood behind me with my mocha in hand, a puzzled smile on his face.
“Um…” my head swiveled from Alexei to where the stranger stood in plain sight, though for whatever reason it appeared Alexei didn’t see him. As I watched, the stranger sidled away slowly, entering the next aisle and moving with swift steps for the door. “You didn’t see a guy standing right there?”
“Ah… no?” Alexei gave me a sidelong glance, his eyes lifting to scan that corner of the store. “We’re the only ones in here.”
“Of course we are…” I muttered, taking the coffee from his hand and raising it immediately to my lips as if it was the cure for what ailed me. “Thanks, I was… never mind.” It was easier for him to think I was a little odd rather than try to explain and have him think I’d gone completely kazoo for sure. I wasn’t completely certain I hadn’t taken a turn for the worse myself where my mental health was concerned. Seeing imaginary glowy guys in my sleep was one thing, but in broad daylight?
I decided to pick up the rest of my groceries and get home. Alexei hovered nearby as I shopped, straightening shelves as we chatted. Maybe he was lonely? I wasn’t picking up the vibe that he thought I might be shoplifting anything, after all I was a r> all I waegular customer. Even after I paid for my purchases, he kept talking and I got the feeling he wished I’d stick around for a while, but I was ready to go home.
