Fragile Touch

by Lexy Timms

  I have to get up and keep going, she thought, but even her thoughts were so weak she barely heard them inside her head. I’ll just take my vitamins and medicine and be back to normal.

  Wincing, she managed to pull herself to her feet by grabbing the handle of a drawer above her head. Her lungs felt like they had been deflated and her stomach like bricks were sitting in it. Every breath felt heavy.

  It’s just mind over matter, she tried to tell herself. The cats need to be fed. She looked up and saw the trash, a container of almond milk jutting out the top. No, that’s disgusting.

  “I have to take the trash out,” she tried to tell her animals, but it came out in a thin whisper. Never taking her eyes off the trash, she sat down in front of a glass of water that was left over from last night and downed the whole thing. It helped her feel a little more alive. Not much, but enough that she was sure carrying a bag of garbage to the sidewalk would be no problem.

  She hoisted herself up and, bracing herself on the counter, tied the garbage bag shut. “Time to go out,” she rasped to the hungry cats. The trash bag felt like it weighed as much as she did, and took all her strength to carry it to the front door.

  Ignore the fingerprints. Ignore the fingerprints. Ignore the fingerprints. Why do I always notice things to do when I feel sick? I should be able to rest when I’m sick.

  She pulled the door open and didn’t bother to close it behind her. If any bugs flew in, the cats could kill them. Maybe if she let bugs in more often the cats wouldn’t beg her to be fed so often, she thought sarcastically.

  Getting the trash bag down the front steps, one hand on the railing, was a hassle. Halfway down she realized she’d forgotten to take her medicine with the glass of water she had drained.

  No, I didn’t eat anything, and I’m supposed to take the meds and vitamins with food. Geez, today is not my day.

  She tried to think something else, but it slipped her mind. Her head felt light and the gentle after-storm breeze threatened to knock her over as she dragged the bag slowly down the sidewalk.

  Focus on each step.

  Step. Step. Step.

  Something out of the corner of her eye moved, but she didn’t have the energy to turn her head. Right now, her greatest task in life was to get this darned bag of trash to its pickup bin. Nothing else mattered.

  She heard a voice. It sounded too far away to be real.

  I’m going crazy.

  She kept dragging the bag and when she reached the bin, she stopped and put her hand on the top to steady herself. Her lower half was in so much pain she could hardly feel her body. She tried to think but couldn’t focus.

  “Need help?”

  So the voice was real. Turning her head, she saw party guy.

  Right there, three feet away, on the other side of his bushes.

  “Hangover that bad, huh?”

  “Is it possible,” she breathed, suddenly feeling a cold sweat break out on her forehead, “to be so lightheaded that you feel strong?”

  If she had been more aware of her surroundings, she would’ve seen a genuinely confused expression on his face as he replied, “I don’t know—I’ve never felt that way... I think you mean weak.”

  But before he could finish saying it, Lillian fell to her knees and emptied the contents of her stomach into his bushes.

  As soon as she was sure everything had been expelled, she felt both immensely better and worse at the same time. A feeling of blissfulness overcame her, and she smiled as she sank to the ground. It was warm and solid down here. She never wanted to move again.

  What happened next was a blur that faded in and out. She was off the ground, and somehow ended up on her sofa. Loud meows reached her ears.

  “I need to feed the cats.” Did she think it or say it?

  Everything went black. The heavy sleep was so deep she could feel herself wrapped up in it. It was like the ground outside: cozy, stable, safe.

  Her eyes opened. A couple of lamps were on. The shadows on the ceiling showed her the blinds were closed. The room was cool.

  With a groan, she turned on her side and let her arms hang off. Her fingertips tingled.

  Take me back, sleep.

  A cat jumped onto the sofa. She felt her favorite quilt softly covering her legs.

  She opened one eye and looked straight ahead.

  There was a guy. In her house. Holding her book.

  “Good morning,” he said. He looked way too happy. It irritated her.

  “Shit. What time is it?”

  “Noon-thirty. You’ve been out for almost four hours.”

  Closing her eyes again, she tried to corral her thoughts. This isn’t happening. Not this guy. Anyone but this guy.

  “Do you have a mom or grandmother living here, too?”

  “What gives you that idea?”

  “Someone left this long, pissy note on my door saying to quiet down, and I know it wasn’t from Taylor on the other side of me, because he was at my party.”

  “Why don’t you think it was from me?”

  “Well, for starters, you don’t look as old as that note sounded.”

  Lillian scowled.

  “Other than that, I’ve only seen you a couple of times, and you’ve always looked like you could use a good party to loosen up. You look stressed.” He chuckled. “I guess you party hard by yourself over here. That’s a pretty hardcore hangover you’ve got.”

  Please, this can’t be real.

  “Are you feeling better?” He flashed a smile, like he had known her for a long time.

  “Why are you here? We’ve never even met before.”

  “You would rather I’d left you on the ground earlier?”

  I don’t really remember being on the ground, she thought, trying to recall any clear details about that morning.

  “By the way, those are my prized bushes you threw up in.”

  “I know,” she growled. “No one would shut up about them after you won that stupid award.”

  “It was a lot of throw-up.”

  “Sorry, I’ll turn it down a few notches next time and vomit in my own award-winning bushes.”

  Finally his giddy smile faded. “You know, maybe if you took better care of your own yard, you’d understand how it makes you feel better. Then you’d be able to appreciate the hard work that other people put into the first visible part of their homes.”

  “My yard isn’t that bad.”

  “Not anymore,” he replied shortly. “I helped you out while you were sleeping off your hangover.”

  Lillian’s thoughts stopped for a moment as she tried to process what her neighbor just said. Helped out? With a grunt, she pushed herself off the couch and walked to the front door. She pulled up the blinds; the bright noon sun hit her in the face and she shielded her eyes like a vampire. Squinting, she peered outside.

  Her front yard looked like a different place.

  The grass was trimmed so neatly it looked more like a fresh green carpet than grass. Her trees and shrubs no longer had scraggly, wild-hair limbs poking out from all angles. Everything looked healthier and perkier.

  Several puddles were spread across the porch floor. She lifted her eyes and saw her hanging plants had water droplets clinging to the leaves. He’d even watered those.

  Feeling a mixture of shock and confusion, she wandered back to the living room. What’s-his-name was sitting in the same place, but Gray Cat had jumped onto his lap and was rubbing her face all over his arms. His, to be fair, muscular arms. She hadn’t noticed that before.

  “I...I don’t know what to say,” she managed to stammer. “How did I not wake up? Did it take a long time?”

  “Only a couple of hours,” he replied, moving his face away from the cat’s tail. “I enjoyed doing it.”

  “Why did you...?”

  He tickled the cat’s belly, finally getting her tail out of his nose. “I figured if it was just you here, you could probably use a hand.”

  Lillian couldn’t think of anythi
ng to say. In a way, the nice thing this party guy she’d sworn to avoid had done floored her. But, at the same time, it brought back her worry of getting close to him. Especially him, since she’d never seen anyone but him at the house except for weekend nights. It was a disaster waiting to happen, she knews. And she couldn’t risk him thinking she was into him or looking for his pity.

  “I guess I should say thank you.” She sat down on the couch, feeling slightly awkward in her own house. He looked more comfortable than she did.

  “Don’t mention it. Like I said, I enjoyed it.” He chuckled at the cat, whose legs were all four pointed up in the air. “Hey, what’s this one’s name, anyway?”

  “That’s Gray Cat. She’s a girl.”

  “And the other one?”

  “Black Cat. Boy.”

  “What original names. You must be a wordsmith.”

  “Something like that.” She suddenly found a tiny smile on her face and wanted to slap it off. No, Lillian. Stop it. This is a one-time thing.

  She caught a glimpse of the smile on his face before she looked away, starting to panic. “I think I’d better eat something,” she tried, hoping he would leave. There was something magnetic about this guy, despite the fact that she had resolved to be disgusted by his inconsiderate behavior until the end of time.

  “Want me to go out and grab something for you?”

  She froze in the middle of rising to her feet. No, I don’t. That is way too friendly, and we are not friendly. We’re neighbors, I like my alone time, and you have your fun weekend party friends. Don’t even think about it. “No, I have some refrigerator oatmeal ready. It’s probably extra good now, since it’s been sitting a few extra hours.” She forced a smile.

  “Refrigerator what?”

  “Oatmeal.”

  “Everything about that sounds nasty. I have some salmon fillets in my freezer if you want me to make one for you.”

  The mention of a salmon fillet made her mouth water, but she replied, “Fish after throwing up doesn’t sound too appetizing.”

  He nodded. “Makes sense. Do you need anything else?”

  “I think I’m okay. I’m sorry about your bushes.”

  “I already cleaned them up. They were a little shaken up, but they’re fine now.” He winked, and Lillian felt her heart drop. As he stood she tried to turn her eyes away, but couldn’t help noticing how controlled his movements were. He was wearing old, ripped jeans and a white V-neck that was covered in grass stains, and beneath it all he looked to be solid muscle.

  She coughed as a last effort to pull herself back to the present moment. Without saying anything, he strode to the front door after giving Gray Cat a last stroke along her back. Lillian followed him.

  He stepped out onto the front porch, suddenly turning around just as she reached the door. She looked up at his face as he towered over her, having to focus on his face and not allow herself the indulgence of looking at his body up close and personal.

  “We’ve lived next to each other for, what, six months now? I’ve met everyone else, but I don’t even know your name. And this is the longest time I’ve spent at a neighbor’s house since I’ve been here.”

  Her heart picked up its pace. They were close enough that she could smell his scent; it was a musky, sweaty, grassy smell, and her efforts to not be distracted by it were failing miserably.

  “Lillian,” she answered.

  “Is that it?”

  “Warren.”

  “Well, Lillian Warren, it’s been much more of a pleasure to meet you than I ever anticipated.” He extended his hand, and she shook it shyly. “I’m Cayden.”

  “Is that it?” she retorted.

  “Cayden Manos.” The name poured from his lips like liquid gold.

  “That sounds Greek.”

  “It is.” A big smile spread across his face, revealing his straight teeth. “My grandfather immigrated here.”

  “Oh, that’s...cool.” She fumbled over the words, not wanting to make enough small talk that he should be invited back inside. “Thank you for doing the yard, Cayden.” Saying his name made her skin prickle, as if she had learned some secret.

  “The pleasure was mine, Lillian Warren.” He executed a small bow and sauntered down the steps.

  She stepped backwards, closing the door but stepping aside to spy around the edge. His scent was still here, and he had said her name twice. It did something to her, regardless of whether she wanted it to or not.

  She watched the muscles under his shirt flex as he stopped at his bushes and snapped a couple of tiny twigs that were growing out the top. Is he doing that on purpose? He has to be doing that on purpose.

  Unable to handle any more, she let out a breath and almost tripped over Black Cat when she turned around. “I’m sorry, baby.” She picked up the cat, whose eyes were fixed on Cayden at the bushes.

  Lillian turned around to follow the cat’s stare, and they stood still for a few moments. In one unpredictable movement, Cayden straightened and looked right back at the front door. There was no hiding now. Stunned, Lillian grabbed Black Cat’s paw and waved it back and forth. He smiled and waved back, and Lillian moved away from the door while he was still watching. He could never know she watched him, even if it was just for those few seconds.

  Her stomach grumbled. Meds, she remembered. Eat something and take the meds. Think about the neighbor later. No, don’t think about the neighbor later. You’re way behind on work.

  She wondered how she would ever get any work done today, when Cayden’s scent still lingered so strongly.

  “THANKS, JENA. SEE YOU Monday.” Lillian tapped the beloved red button on her phone screen that meant hang up. For the last two or three years she’d been pretty fully booked with clients wanting her advice on organizing their homes, and now they were beginning to tell their other elite friends about her magic.

  Which was great, except she couldn’t fit everyone into her schedule comfortably.

  Last year, she wouldn’t have hesitated to work herself half to death. She would have reveled in the constant appointments and projects and feeling of accomplishment when the clutter turned to neat, compartmentalized peace.

  Granted, last year the little flare-ups didn’t happen nearly as often. She wasn’t so sick then. She could afford to overwork herself.

  Maybe not. It probably would have made me sicker.

  She sighed and closed her laptop. With a last long glance at the planner, she decided that she would sleep on the decision to work Sundays.

  Not a smart idea, but you’re in high demand, Lillian. Something about the thought made her emit a small laugh. I’ll decide on Sunday whether to start working Sundays. How ironic that tomorrow could potentially be my last day off for a while.

  Stretching her arms above her head, she arched her back and felt the blood course through her body. The sun was going down and she saw a few stars out the skylight in the ceiling directly above her head. She was surprised at how much better she felt after eating a good meal and taking her meds and vitamins. She had even remembered to eat a snack and log it in her journal. So far, everything had agreed with her.

  Returning to her normal position, she got a tingly feeling on the back of her neck. In her peripheral vision she saw the shape of a person. Her head snapped to the side and she saw none other than Cayden standing casually on her back porch, looking straight at her. Black Cat sat on the floor inside, fixated on him.

  Oh, no. Not the back porch. We don’t know each other, man. A sense of dread washed over her and, reluctantly, she walked over to unlock the door.

  “Back door neighbors, are we now?” Maybe not giving him a traditional greeting would be a little colder and he wouldn’t want to come over again.

  Instead of giving a response, Cayden raised one eyebrow.

  Lillian suddenly realized that what she had said could be interpreted much differently than she intended.

  “Was that supposed to be a sexual pun?” Cayden asked.

 
Lillian suddenly felt like she was going to melt. “Uh...no.”

  Cayden let out a deep laugh that reverberated in her body. He set his smiling eyes on her. “I literally just saw all the blood drain out of your face. You all right? Not going to pass out again, are we?”

  She nodded, then shook her head as she put her arm up on the wall. “I’m good. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know. It was funny.” He cleared his throat. “What’re you doing tonight?”

  “Working,” she replied hastily.

  “Working more? You just closed your laptop. It’s dinnertime, anyway.”

  “You were watching me?” What a creep!

  “Not really. I just stood here for a minute or two playing with your cat through the window. Thought you would have seen me but, then again, you didn’t wake up when I was doing your yard earlier.”

  This has gone way too far. I have to put a stop to it. “Sorry. I was really focused. I...”

  Before she could give him a reason she was busy, Gray Cat bulleted in from the other end of the house and leapt into Cayden’s arms.

  Lillian’s jaw dropped. “Gray Cat, what’re you doing?”

  “I love Cayden,” said the guy in a high-pitched cat voice. “He’s my new best friend.”

  “I’ve never seen her do that before. She usually doesn’t attach to people. Only Black Cat and me.”

  “Tell her, Gray,” Cayden said to the animal. “Tell her we’re best friends now.”

  “You can hold her, just don’t let her go out. I don’t want her out in the woods at night.”

  “Why not? Lots of critters come out at night. Them’s good eats.” He tried to put the cat down, but she struggled to stay close to him. Cayden adjusted the cat in his arms and stood up. “I’m having a small get-together tonight with some buddies, if you want to come. Around 9:00 or so.”

  I want to, she thought, but said, “I can’t.”

  “Rather drink here alone?”

  “I don’t really drink.”