Life Of Dreams

Chapter 7

I slept through the night only waking when the sun came through the partially closed curtain.  Slowly lowering my casted leg over the bed, I pulled myself to a seated position.  There was still a throbbing behind my eyes, but not as sharp as the previous day. 

Pulling the crutches off of the bottom of my bed, I proceeded to rock myself up onto them.  It took several tries, but once erect, I was able to get about doing my normal morning things.  From the bathroom I maneuvered myself to the kitchen and put up my coffee ... high test, no decaf for me this morning.

I found grapefruit juice and milk in the fridge, thanks to Gladys, along with some of her special banana nut muffins.  It was so difficult trying to keep the refrigerator door open, take things out and still regain my footing with the crutches.  What normally would take a few seconds seemed to take forever, until I got the hang of using one of the crutches as a door stop and using my good foot as a pivot point. 

Crutch-swing-foot, crutch-swing-foot ... I was getting the hang of it, even in the confines of my small kitchen.  I popped a couple of muffins into the microwave and waited the few seconds for them to just get warm.  The coffee was ready.  I grabbed my special 'I <heart> DALLAS' mug and poured that elixir I needed so badly.  I sat at my table, lifted my foot onto a spare chair and proceeded to devour my breakfast. 

I looked at the paper I had written on the night before.  The scrawling was barely legible, but I knew what was on the sheet.

While I ate, I grabbed the phone and called Alison to thank her for having the place cleaned.  I really had appreciated the gesture and she was thrilled that it had met with my approval.  We talked for a while, then sensing she was pretty busy, we hung up, both indicating we would talk more in a day or two.

Scratch one item off my list.

After I finished eating, I went into the bathroom to get some aspirin.  Earlier, I had thought something looked different, and not just because everything was sparkling clean.  I looked around it and saw nothing missing, although a few things were rearranged. 

I opened the medicine cabinet to get some aspirins and that's when it struck me.  Although Trent had only stayed with me a few times, sneaking in under the cloak of darkness, he had left a few things here so that he wouldn't always have to come prepared.  His toothbrush, special toothpaste and disposable razors were all gone.  I searched through the cabinet, then took everything out until the cabinet was empty ... empty and extraordinarily clean.  Maybe the cleaning people had thrown them out; but why? 

I hobbled over to the closet and pulled down the dry cleaning I had picked up the day before my accident.  I clutched the group of hangers and carried/dragged it across the carpet and threw it on the bed.  Inside the plastic should be Trent's powder blue shirt that he had left here the last time.  I had made a note to make sure I brought it with me when I went to Casa del Susurros.  I tore open the plastic and started flinging my blouses around the bed.  No shirt.  I read the dry cleaning tag still attached.  There was no line item for a shirt.  I crumpled the plastic into a ball and heaved it toward the corner of the room.  I had seen that shirt when I had picked everything up.  I had made sure it was there.  What was going on?      

Panic was starting to build in me.  I went over to my jewelry box and anxiously opened the top drawer.  Trent had given me a silver steam locomotive charm on a long delicate chain.  It wasn't an expensive gift, but it meant the world to me.  The first night we were together, I had told him that I had loved one of the first movies he had been in, The Golden Spike.  It was a Western about the first transcontinental railroad where he played a tough but fair overseer of the workers.  He had gotten rave reviews and this movie was considered the start of his career.  Several days later I received a small package in the mail with the charm and a note.  The note was cryptic but indicated that I had steamed myself into his heart.  It was signed 'T'.