Easy As Falling Off A Bike part 79

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If life is so easy, where is Cathy going wrong?

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad & The Killer Kitten.
part 79.

I sat and watched Simon, he looked as tired as I felt. We had been talking maybe an hour, yet it felt like a month. I hoped it was still sunday, but if it wasn't I thought I might just about understand.

"Why don't we go and sit in the lounge, the chairs are more comfortable?" I stood up and he took hold of the hand I proffered, he rose and followed me into the lounge. We sat on the sofa, not saying much at all and not too many minutes later, he was lying with his head in my lap, fast asleep as I stroked his hair.

I was too tired to think we were acting like a couple, I just wanted him to be comfortable and could see he needed a nap, so I sat and guarded him while he slept little knowing what was under the trousers I was wearing.

I suspect I nodded a bit at times too, I was so tired. Why was emotional stuff always so tiring? I would have been less knackered riding a bike up and down the Ridgeway. I puzzled over my question about his mother.

I knew nothing about their parents, not even if they were still alive. So where did the question come from? I have heard that in psychotherapy, a good therapist can almost climb into the head of the client and see what they are thinking, the empathy in the relationship is so good. I was no therapist, perhaps in need of one, but I got the picture of a little boy and his aloof mother.

I tried to look at the clock but I couldn't quite see it, bloody thing! I'd left my watch in the bathroom when I'd washed my hands earlier, so I had to move Simon's arm to see his wrist and eventually his watch.

He was dreaming, I could see his eyes moving under the closed lids, which meant he was either going into deeper sleep or coming out of it. I hoped it was the latter because I was getting very stiff, his head was heavy and I needed to pee.

As I pulled up his arm so his eyes opened, "Wassup?" his sleepy eyes looked straight through me and then seemed to focus on me. He smiled.

"Hello sleepyhead, feel better?"

"Hi gorgeous," he said back.

After I explained a need to micturate, he sat up and on stiff legs I managed to waddle out to the loo. I still handn't noticed the time.

"What time is it Si?" I called as I walked back to the lounge.

"Half twelve, are we doing lunch or what?"

"I doubt we'll have time now. I'll have to make us something."

"Sorry, I said I'd take you to lunch. Cocked up again!" He looked downcast.

"You do enjoy beating yourself up don't you?"

"I don't enjoy it, but I seem to be pretty good at it."

"I had noticed. Look if you don't trust my cooking, we could try ordering a pizza."

"Can't say I enjoy them that much, and it isn't that I don't trust you it's more that I don't want you to have to bother."

"Maybe I want to bother, I don't get the opportunity to play the little wifey very often." Shit! What a stupid thing to say, what am I saying here - unconscious messages that I want him to propose to me? Geez, I must watch that stupid mouth of mine.

"Okay, if you want to pretend to be a hausfrau, you carry on."

I scuttled out to the kitchen and checked out the fridge. I had enough to make some omlettes and a salad garnish. I chopped and fried some onion and potato, then made an omlette mix.... ten minutes later I was carrying two Spanish omlettes into the dining room. I called him but no one came.

Thinking he'd gone off to sleep again I went into the lounge, he was nowhere to be seen. I checked the cloakroom and the bathroom, he'd gone. I ran to the front door, his car had gone. I sat at the table with my head in my hands and began to cry. What had I done wrong? Surely he hadn't guessed about me had he? Where the hell was he? If he'd nipped out for a paper or a bottle of wine, wouldn't he have said?

I waited my eyes watery, watching the steam rising from the plates decreasing. I don't know how long I waited, long enough to know the food was cold and that he wasn't coming back. I scraped the plates into the bin and on heavy legs went up to get ready to go and see my father. I hadn't felt much like it before, now all I wanted to do was curl up and cry myself to sleep.

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Comments

Son of a . . .

The bastard!

Karen J.

"Being a girl is wonderful and to torture someone into that would be like the exact opposite of what it's like. I don’t know how anyone could act that way."

College Girl - poetheather


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

FUBAR

came to mind. What's he on?

Besides being absolutely livid with this, I'd worry sick also.

You threw a major curve ball here, Angharad.

Reelin' Jo-Anne

Curveballs

Curveballs are definitely a specialty of my Auntie Angharad's :)

If they can ever get past this awkwardness, these two are made for each other. I'm just not sure they know it yet.

Never let it be said that I don't enjoy the occasional delusion of grandeur

Never let it be said that I don't enjoy the occasional delusion of grandeur

um... maybe

kristina l s's picture

... he just ducked down to the local take-away. Ya think? Egg allergy? Not today surely. Oh Simon you are a dope. Flowers, chockies.. serious scuffing of feet in abject humbleness. Then, maybe.... sigh...

Kristina

guesses

Perhaps he got too nervous to eat and went on ahead to the hospital without her, so he could ask her father a very important question. But he should have left a note or something - could he have texted her mobile and she didn't hear it ring from the kitchen?

WHAT

Now Simon is worse than Cathy? Cricky, I starting to forget I'm a Yank, and talking like you guys.
My head hurts, is it a tumor? or just this massuga story. Hope it's only a tumor.