As we approached the house, I saw a woman who looked like Cherie in the front yard of the house, on the left of Fiona’s duplex.
I asked Liam to stop driving so that I could confirm what I had seen; lo and behold, it was her.
Though her eyes still sparkled, her beauty waned, and it looked like she was not too well.
She was undoubtedly happy to see me after a very long time, and we chatted for a while, totally excusing the existence of Mason, her ex-husband.
When I asked about the girls, she told me Kimberly was briefly staying with her father, and Kaitlin was at Cherie’s older sister’s.
That was fair, I thought to myself.
I hadn’t really spoken with Mason after I was picked up from the airport but he had looked better than I had left him. I jokingly told him, and he made a small laugh about it.
When I left Cherie, I couldn’t help but think she was hiding something important from everyone.
Yes, she and Mason still had frequent disagreements, but she couldn’t look so worn out as a result. It was beyond that.
I could remember wanting to discuss them with Mason over a drink.
*****
Allison’s call came through as soon as I stepped out of the shower. She spoke of an attempt at convincing our parents against reconciling Aurora with me.
Though I didn’t give much thought to it, I doubted it would be successful.
Personally, I was wrestling with the idea of rebellion, yet I had the desire to consider it. I began seeing it as a spontaneous action, not a carefully thought-out one.
The stillness of the night managed to lull me to sleep, and as soon as I shut my eyes, I saw a strange montage of Fiona.
The gentle curve formed on her lips, the shimmer in her beautiful eyes, the tenderness in her voice, and the warmth she always exuded.
A smile gradually appeared on my face by merely thinking of her. But she had not looked too pleased during the day.
The doorbell rang.
“Hey,” she breathed when I opened the door.
“Hey.”
She walked in with several brown bags.
“What’s the occasion?” I closed the door, and she headed directly to the kitchen.
“Dinner.” She answered.
“I thought we would just order in something light.” I followed her, rather happy to see her.
“No, I think this,” she was referring to the takeouts she had offloaded on the kitchen counter. “is better.” She finished, taking off her shoes.
I instantly saw the scratches behind her ankles. They looked painful, and I was moved to help her dress the wound.
“Come,” I grabbed her wrist and exited the kitchen.
“Why?”
“Those,” I pointed at the scratches after I had made her sit still.
She flushed, keeping quiet.
“We have to treat that first.” I got the first-aid box.
She winced when I cleaned the wound with sterile wipes, clutching the upholstery.
“You should not wear those shoes again for now,” I said. “It’s friendly advice.”
She was mute and didn’t speak till I finished.
“Thank you,” she sprang to her feet and returned to the kitchen. I rejoined her.
She was microwaving the meal that had then been transferred to flat porcelain plates.
“Thai food,” I mused, inhaling the aroma that overwhelmed the space between us.
Though I expected her to say a few words of comment, she didn’t. The doorbell rang again, and then I went to get the door.
It was Cherie, and she wanted to know whether I had a pair of pruning shears. I gave it to her and returned to the kitchen.
Fiona was reaching for a spice jar on one of the high shelves but she couldn’t get hold of it. I ambled towards her and reached for it.
