Bex was in a sweat. She hated to keep the house like an ice box, but she had no choice in the matter.
"Really, maybe we should stop sleeping together," Bex told Oliver who was bundled up in a white thermal shirt under his green Mountain Dew t-shirt.
"No, no I couldn't," he was cleaning up in the kitchen. He'd made a steam chicken dinner with vegetables. It was the most savory thing, and he'd made it in thirty minutes. Even on a diet he could make things delicious.
"But its like sleeping with a robot." She had two cast to contend with and the huge crutches. At least she was down to lower leg casts now. She's spent several weeks with the casts up to her thighs. She hadn't any idea how she got through that. A lot of sleep, supposedly.
Yes, she'd had plenty of nightmares how she'd have it out with Dayton and stab him with a crutch with such pleasure. And she'd awake with a smile. She knew she hated him completely now. She hadn't told this to Oliver. It might send him to making phone calls for her see a psycho therapist of some kind. It wouldn't have done any good. She still didn't like him. Thankfully, Oliver didn't bring him up.
"No its not." He got back to her about sleeping with a robot. Usually, he kept to himself though. Or so it seemed. Always moving around quiet as if there was something she was suppose to be oblivious to that he wanted to keep that way. She wondered what it was. Bex wondered about a lot of things.
Like was Dayton gay now. Had he always been gay? Was she just a little experiment for him? These were things she'd never know the answers to, and she needed to stop thinking about him. It would only make her more miserable. And she was already miserable between the babies and the broken legs. How would she ever get through this?
The phone rang. It was afer nine in the evening. Going on ten. Suddenly, Bex thought it was bad news. "Or a telemarketer, " yawned Oliver. She knew he wanted to pack it in, but he wouldn't. He'd wait until she was ready and he'd help her brush her teeth. Brush her hair. Help her with getting clothes off and a gown on. He was there every step of the way as she struggled from morning until night.
It was Nancy. "Do you want to talk to her?"
Bex just cringed but she took the cordless house phone, anyway.
"What is it?" No time for introduction. She wanted her to spill it.
"Dayton left me," she sounded as if she'd been crying.
"He told me." She was solid as a rock. Bex might tell her to go to hell any moment. She just might feel like it.
"He did? How?"
"We had pie and then he broke my legs." She put it quite bluntly.
"What?" She sniffed as if she might be afraid now.
"It was an accident. About the legs, but I bet he wanted too." She was certain of it.
"OH GOD, BEX," Nancy sounded hopeless now on the phone. "I'm pregnant."
"Welcome to the club," Bex sang in a mocking tone.
"But he left me, what am I gonna do?" She coughed up as she cried.
"I dunno. Forget the asshole and enjoy being pregnant." Bex said the first thing that came to her head. "Do you even want the baby?"
There was a silence for the longest time.
"Nancy are you still there," Bex said politely as she could.
She just heard her let out a sigh.
"If I tell him, I know he'll want me to keep it," Nancy said.
"You think?" Bex wasn't so sure about that.
"He would. I guess. I really haven't talked to him about it." Nancy told her.
"What are you waiting for?"
"He abandoned me, Bex!" That sounded like her biggest gripe at the moment.
"Well, were you really that happy?"
"We could have been if he'd tried harder," Nancy said.
"But he didn't." Bex reminded her.
"You don't hate me, do you?" Nancy fretted.
"I don't hate you," but Bex knew she could if she talked to her much longer. "You have to tell him. He has a right to know." That was her only advice.
"Can I call you, again?"
"All right." But Bex wasn't sure she'd take the call if she did.