Unsuspecting Blessing.

xviii

xviii

Brian woke up, his body wet and brimming with sweat. Cold sweat, emphasized by the breeze coming through the open window across the room. He looked around and realized he had spent the night at Julia's apartment. The young morning showed slightly through the window, and Brian got up to close the glass. Why was it open, he thought, and immediately his mind jumped to vampires for a conclusion. He chuckled to himself, and before shaking the irrationality away as nonsense he felt his neck for two symmetrical puncture wounds. His neck felt wet and almost sticky to the touch, and his body felt groggy like he just stepped out of a murky swamp. A clock sat on a nightstand to the right side of Julia's bed, and it read 5:30 A.M.

He gave a back-cracking stretch and groaned about the early hour, feeling like a kid going to grade school again. Usually he was up around seven, or eight at the latest, but for some reason his body decided to function earlier. Maybe it was because Julia was not beside him anymore, he thought, but he had not become accustomed to lying beside someone anyhow. There was no use playing detective with no clues, so he walked out into the kitchen area of the apartment, and saw Julia sitting at her couch in the living room with papers spread out all over the coffee table in stressful disorganization.

She was on the phone, and her voice sounded strained with held back sobs.

Brian did not engage. Instead, he left her to tend to her business and opened the fridge. He grabbed the carton of eggs he bought a few days prior, and located a pan and cooking spray as quietly as he could manage. Salt and pepper were on the counter in their respective shakers next to the stove already as a natural cooking prerequisite. Brian turned on the gas stove and it made a rapid ticking sound before bursting into ten flames that formed a circle around the burner. The sound was louder than he had expected, so he tossed a glance over his shoulder at Julia.

She was now walking towards him. A frown sat on her face that turned nearly to a grimace as she started to sigh.

"Good morning," Brian said, "would you like some eggs?"

She puffed out a huge sigh, "Yes, please, I need something to eat."

"I'll make yours first then," he shuffled the pan around on the flames to heat it up, and sprayed down some cooking oil. "Could you toss some toast in for me?"

Julia did.

"Is everything okay?" he cracked the first egg into the pan, "Also, dippy eggs or scrambled or—"

She gave him a dainty smirk. "Over easy, please. And no, everything is not okay, but I will figure things out."

"Could I be of any assistance?"

"You could make me two eggs, that would be helpful. How much toast do you want?"

"I'll take two as well," he said, flipping her egg onto its face.

The toaster clicked when she pushed the notch to lower the bread down.

"So will you tell me what's going on?" he asked, plating her first egg.

She sighed, and leaned on the counter, looking at him with a queer, unsure expression. "I don't want you to be upset with me for not telling you beforehand."

"Well I might not be upset if you tell me now, while I make you these lovely eggs." he sprayed the pan again, with less this time, and cracked another egg onto it. It sizzled hotter than the first one, and the almost clear egg white turned color immediately.

"I have a case," she said, her words reluctant to come out.

"For your accident," he turned to her completely, ignoring the egg in the pan.

"Yes," she said.

He raised the pan away from the flames. "How come you didn't tell me?"

She gave him a look of expectedness, "Because I didn't know how temporary this would be."

He put the pan back down and the metal scraped against the cage over the burner.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but it's hard for me to ask for help."
"I know," he rebutted, "but this is something important. What are you struggling with?" He plated her second egg and the toaster sprung the bread up with a metallic pop.

She rolled out the top drawer beside the stove, and grabbed two forks and a knife. She buttered the bread, "I don't have the capabilities to get a lawyer with my insurance, and," she added, "I know for a fact that a regular, everybody-gets-one attorney isn't gonna do me shit in this case."

"But you were on the crosswalk," Brian said, feeling argumentative but calmed himself by focusing more on making himself eggs.

"I know," she said in a sigh, "but the guy who hit me, the guy with the shitty car, is apparently some big wig here at a computer company—he works their Canadian district, I guess, up in Canada."

"So what you're saying is he is going to get out of this scot free." he said flatly, plating an egg for himself and cracking a second onto the pan.

"Basically, if I don't get some sort of legal help."

Brian thought for a moment, listening to the toaster click and the egg sizzle. "My Mom might know a guy, a lawyer—like the real deal."

"How does he know em?"

"I don't know if she does, but she helps a lot of people out and I'm just saying she might. Just don't get your hopes up completely."

Julia already looked lightened, but then recoiled back into herself. "But wouldn't that mean I have to meet your Mom?"

"Yes," Brian chuckled, "she's actually been wondering about you."

"I'm sure she has."

Brian noticed the grim-looking expression on Julia's face. "What's the matter? You don't want to?"

"It's not that; I'm just, you know."

"I know," he said and plated his last egg. The toaster popped two more slices of bread up. Brian turned off the stove, and gave Julia a deep hug. She felt nice pressed against him.

They ate their breakfast together.