Revenge Is Best Served..

Feelings

"Yes, Martha?" I answered the knocking on my office door. She came in and closed it behind her.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I mumbled, pretending to look for something on my desk.

"Michael," came the warning tone.

"Yes, Mrs. Martha, " I answered smiling at the scattered papers on my desk. She hated it when I called her that.

"What was that about then, if it's nothing?" She asked folding her arms across her chest and scolding at me.

"You can't expect me to be okay with her wondering about spreading her germs for everyone to catch now, can you?"

"And that was it? Nothing else?"

"What else is there?" She was reminding me too much of my father. Why did they have to catch everything?

"Why did you need to talk to Chance?" She still stood, arms folded and face scolding.

"I needed him to run some errands for me," I answered simply, looking back to my desk.

"Michael..."

"Mrs. Henderson please, let it go. Until she's better, she stays in her room, I don't want anyone going in there. Her food is to be left at her door at all times. If she gets worst we'll take her to the hospital, in the meantime I'll get a nurse here."

She sat in one of the chairs that were directly in front of my desk. "Mike, you know all that is not necessary and how you acted was uncalled for. It's just the flu, not Ebola for Christ's sake," she said stressing the last words. Getting up, she walked to the door and turned to face me and our eyes met. "Fix it." She sighed, opened her mouth, then closed it. She waved her hands at me as if dismissing all I had said.
Stubborn old woman.
She stopped again before closing the door, "what she needs is fresh air and interaction."

"She can open the windows or sit on her room's balcony and she can always watch tv."

She rolled her eyes at me and closed the door, leaving me to my messed up thoughts.

I was going about this the wrong way.

★★★

It has been years since I tried to pursue someone but I knew the first thing to do was telling that someone, that you liked them.
So Thursday morning I made my way to Samanthas room, hoping the door wasn't locked. Not that I'd just barge in without knocking, of course.

Several minutes later I found myself in the kitchen.
Should I bring her flowers? No, breakfast would be better. I could always put a rose on the platter. Did she like roses? I knew she liked tea.
My thoughts ran circles around my brain as I tried to figure out what to do.

"You know, standing in front of an open fridge is never a good idea."

"Lenny."

"Yup, that's my name, Michael. How can I help you?"

"I want a breakfast that says I'm sorry and I like you."

"And this is for?" He asked cocking his head to one side.

"Samantha," I whispered.

"Why are we whispering?" He asked doing the same.

"Just do it, please. I'll be in my room when you're done."

On the way to my room, I heard crying. Crying that eventually turned to screams. Screaming that turned to rustle and more crying; pleading even. Was she having another nightmare?

My feet moved on their own as my hand fell on the doorknob and twisted. There she was thrashing on the bed, fighting.

I stood frozen only for a moment before I rushed to her side, holding her shoulders and shaking her gently.

"Sam, wake up!"

"Daddy, please!" she cried.

"Sam, Samantha," I almost shouted, shaking her a bit more vigorously. Damn it, she needed to wake up. I gathered her in my arms as she thrashed about, hoping she would wake up.

Her nails dug into my back as she held on to me. What the hell kind of nightmare was she having?!

"Sam, wake up. Please wake up!" Now I was the one begging. After a few minutes, she started to calm down.

"I'm sorry," she said pushing away from me. She pulled the comforter over her body as if I'd seen her naked. She hugged her legs to her body as she cried silently. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked, trying to touch her hand but she pulled away.

"I..."

"This is the third time Sam."

"Third?" She asked looking up at me.

"Chance told me about the one you had the morning he brought you here."

"Of course he did," she murmured.

"These daymares are serious Samantha. You need to get help. I have someone you can..."

"You know everyone, don't you," she spat getting out of bed. " You just have everyone that fixes everything for you!"

"Okay, I'm gonna ignore that and for the record..."

"I really don't care Barbarian, " she said from the balcony, "just leave!"

Was she calling me a bar...no? She needed space. Fine, I can give her that.

Here I was trying to give her comfort, some fucking comfort and what does she do? Not meaning to I ended up slamming the door as I left.

Yeah, I thought, heading to the kitchen, I'll be keeping my feelings to myself.

"Lenny, forget about breakfast."

"But I'm almost done."

"Then bring it to my office, I'll eat it my damn self!"