Liquid Lucidity (A Novella)

Chapter Seven

After a week, Hannah was completely settled in and, despite her protests, David and her had developed a routine. He'd get home every night at six or so, then make them dinner while Hannah swam in the pool. After they ate dinner together, they'd watch an episode or two of something and then she'd go back to her apartment while he went back to work. She'd awake to his headlight at around two or three in the morning. While she could have closed the curtains, Hannah liked knowing he'd gotten home safe and sound after sharing the road with all the drunk driver's.

She noticed the man worked on very little sleep and was surprisingly no worse for wear because of it. He'd still be up at eight in the morning, then invite her over for breakfast and they'd make small talk before he would head back to the bar at ten in the morning to open up by eleven.

"Any luck on the job front?" David asked while preparing dinner. 

She'd told him that morning that she was going to head over to Ithaca, the small town he lived near, and look for a job. "No one seems to be hi—ring."

That was mostly true. The full truth was that no one was hiring a woman who had memory issues, couldn't carry heavy objects, had a stutter and a left leg that didn't always want to work, had anxiety attacks, a reading level of a third grader and couldn't write. 

Honestly, she wouldn't hire her either. 

"You can always come work for me."

"And what would I do?" She spoke slowly. It had become much easier to speak around him over the last week. David didn't seem to mind how she spoke, which put her at ease and made her more comfortable. She'd took her time saying each word as if it were its own sentence. While it took three times longer to say anything, she was able to speak with limited stuttering.

David had learned quite a bit about all her difficulties during their talks that week and knew what her limitations were. "I can take you back with me after dinner every night. You can clean off tables, do the dishes, clean up the kitchen after we close for dinner, then you can just hang out upstairs until bar close and get the place cleaned up and ready to go for the next morning. You can even wear headphones while you work."

Since it was the only offer Hannah had, it was tempting. With her low rent, disability covered all of her expenses, but she knew she'd eventually start to go mad if she remained cooped up in her apartment and David's house for much longer. 

"I don't want to put you out more than I al—read—y have."

David glanced up at her, his hair falling in front of his eyes. "Do I look put out to you?"

"I mean, sort of." She was in his house at least twice a day every day and he did cook her two meals a day.

"Do you think I feel put out?" He rephrased. 

Hannah shook her head. "No." The truth was that no matter how often she invaded his personal space, David seemed to welcome it. 

"Think about it, okay?"

"Okay."

He went back to preparing them dinner. "Your mom called me earlier today," he said like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

"And how did my mom get your num—ber?"

"I gave it to her. She wanted to know if they can come up for Thanksgiving and do a Thanksgiving and Christmas mashup. I told her I'd run it by you."

Christmas was her mom's favorite holiday. She loved to decorate the house up and go shopping for presents and look for the perfect tree. It always had to be the most extravagant tree on the lot, the kind that Hannah wouldn't be able to fit in her apartment. "Will Christmas trees be available by then."

"I can always get a permit to cut down a tree," David suggested. "There's plenty of space to put one up here."

Here, as in his house and not in her apartment. "David."

"I don't mind," he responded quickly. "Look at this place. It doesn't even look like anyone lives here most of the time. I'll buy the stuff and you can make it look like a home."

The way her said that caused Hannah to feel a bit flustered and she reminded herself not to read into a comment like that. "Can I decorate the bar too?"

"Only if you're an employee there," he replied simply. "So, what should I tell your mom?"

"Dep—ends. Is she cooking or are you?"

David glanced up again. "No one uses my kitchen 'cept me."

Hannah laughed at his serious tone, but his answer was the right one. She loved her mom to the moon and back, but couldn't remember a single Thanksgiving dinner that turned out properly. Something always got messed up. 

"Tell her 'yes', so long as you don't mind."

He glared at her last comment, obviously growing sick of her feeling like a burden to him. "I'll call her tomorrow."

"And yes to work—ing in the bar, so long as I can dec—or—ate for Christmas."

His glare disappeared and the devilish smile took its place. "You start on Friday."

Hannah didn't mind the idea of working in the bar. She enjoyed being around David, knew he'd be a patient boss and liked the idea of seeing Meggie more often. Plus, she knew from Meggie that he had a firm 'no dating in the workplace' rule, which would hopefully keep her mild feelings for David in check and prevent her from making a complete ass out of herself, not that she stood a chance in hell anyhow.