Olly, Olly

Chapter 7. Chicken soup and criminal minds.

We spent the morning into early afternoon just cuddling on the sofa. He was still somewhat groggy and I wasn't that much better off than him. He was hungover and I was sleep deprived drunk. I made breakfast it was nothing fancy but again he just pushed food around for the most part. He ate half a piece of dry toast no butter no jam. I couldn't help but look in his direction as he ate or pretended to eat and watched TV. I guess I hoped differently today, but for the most part, his plate stayed full.

"Hey Oliver," I called out and took his attention from the TV, "your sister said that she would see you after work."

"She called?"

"No... she stopped by this morning and drop off that bag over there for you," I pointed to the recliner with my fork. His head follows its direction.

"Whats in it?" He mumbled.

"She said it was clothes and some stuff you would need."

"Hmm... I doubt it, besides the change of clothes." He stood and picked up his plate from the coffee table and saw that I was done as well. Well, my plate was almost empty, his well— just disturbed. He took the plates to the kitchen and I heard him rinse them and place them in the dishwasher. He came back with water in hand. He headed toward the bag and pulled it open just enough so that he could look inside. He reached in and moved things around, as he moved the clothes around I could hear a slight clanking.

"What's in there?" I asked sheepishly.

"Nothing mostly clothes," he assured me zipping up the bag and crawling back onto the sofa next to me. Knowing about the medications, I recognized the clanking and knew it was the pills rattling in their bottles, which he was trying to hide.

Amy called about three p.m. as they spoke I could tell she was giving him a hard time because it made him laugh and he was pacing back and forth around the dining room table. Occasionally, he would stop and look out the dining room windows. He would cut in and question her as she spoke, trying to make sense of her words. Every once and awhile he would turn his head and look over his shoulder in my direction as I sat on the sofa pretending to watch TV.

"No, I already told you guys I wasn't taking that." He stated firmly to her lowering his voice in the process. "I know you meant well— but it's my decision." He continued in a slightly aggressive tone, then he headed into the kitchen and out the back door. The door remained open but the screen door slammed right behind him.

He emerged about ten minutes later, placing the phone on the dining room table on his walk back.

"Hey babe, Amy wants us to meet her at the restaurant at five she gets off at four-thirty."

"Sure but, why?" I questioned curiously watching my tone to not let it sound rude.

"She wants us to have dinner with her at 'Cielo.' She promised we would have the banquet room all to ourselves. She said, its free from four to seven or so. They have a party coming in at seven, but if we run late the servers can set up around us." I watched his head tilt as he tried to read into my delay in answering. "I told her that we'd see her there! I'm sorry, I probably should've asked you first. Do you want to go?" His lips tighten firmly, his eyebrows sunk in expressing confusion in reading me this time.

"Sure, that's fine!" I replied not really having much of a choice since he had already confirmed with her.

"If you really don't want to go— I can call her back."

"Ollie, I agreed!" I assured him.

"I know, but it's not set in stone if you're not up to it. I could call her and cancel. Besides the alternative is spending my time with you alone. Weighing my options, suddenly I'm not up for going." He smirked.