Let’s pick up the pieces

Agatha slowly peeled her eyes open. The bedroom was nearly pitch black, as it had been for days. The clutter on her nightstand nearly spilled over. What were once soft, crisp sheets smelling of sage and lavender, now used up with the stench of 3 weeks. Her eyes, crusty, oily facial skin over a pale complexion. She could smell the oil in her scalp, her hair was dull and listless. In her mouth a very  distinguishable dirty taste.  Worst of all, as she re-accommodated herself in bed, when she lifted the sheets, far more than her unclean scalp, she could smell an unseemly odor emanating from her body. Her mouth was dry, chalky even. Her skin had begun to feel raw under the weight of her bedding. Muscles, joints, and limbs, all sorely tender. She began to itch as though an anxious voice poked and probed her to make herself upright and simply Do Something. Alas, out of the many times this particular voice had plagued Agatha's mind, this time was simply insufficient to spark a want or a need to, at base level, be a person. 

Voice aside, what initially awoke Agatha was the insufferable clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen situated, right beneath her bedroom. Her annoyance was shallow, yet deep enough to utter a single drawn out grunt.

More than anything, Agatha wanted to rise from bed, put herself together, throw on a beautifully ornate dress, of which she owned many, and set foot out on the house’s doorstep to breathe in the fresh May air while adorning herself with an even more joyous smile. 

She simply couldn’t get out of bed. And while thinking of the beautiful possibility she could so clearly envision, she knew she wasn’t up for the task. Voice or not, she was chained to her bed. At the vastly clear observation, the image of another sunny day slowly creeping away like sand granules between the fingers, it weighed on her and Agatha began to cry. She painfully wept to herself as she curled into a ball, knees and chin into chest. The mess in her mind became even more tangled than before. All remarks reminding her to attempt against herself, how low and poor her worth was, how much of a failure she was, how every single person that ever had anything vile to say against her, was right. A lump in her throat began to grow to the point of stifled pain. She felt mute and stupid. All she could do was keep crying as she cupped the nape of her neck in one hand and covered the top half of her tear drenched countenance in the other. She couldn’t stop. As many the days that lead to this one, once again the levee had broken.  She couldn't stop crying.  

Meanwhile;

Downstairs in the kitchen, Agatha’s roommates, Thomas and Morley were clanging away while preparing dinner. 

As Morley was chopping away at some garlic, Thomas decided to spray her with water. Ever the cheeky bastard, he laughed to himself. In mild irritation she immediately turned to him, raising her voice and in tandem her knife.  

“Will you please?! That’s the third time!”

Thoms held up his hands to his chest as though he meant no harm, he tenderly smiled at Morley. To which morley responded, 

“Cut it out! It’s not funny. In fact, if this is what you’re gonna do, get out of my kitchen. 

You should go check on her.”

“Alright. When did you check on her last?”

With full conviction, without a second lacking focus, Morley chopped away at the carrots meant for that night’s beef bourguignon. She remained silent and evasive. 

“Morely?”

More chopping. 

“Morely?!”

“Three days ago.” 

A palpable silence filled the kitchen. Morley had stopped chopping. She set down her knife on the counter and eventually turned to Thomas. 

“She threw a glass at me.”

“What?!”

“She threw a glass at me.”

“Why?”

Morley’s eyes fell to the floor as did the crown of her head. She embraced her arms as she meekly uttered. “I Struck a nerve. I reminded her of how much I hated Mat. I reminded her of her wedding day and how honest I was.”

“Wow. 

Ok.

I can't- I don’t know… how? 

You told her the truth on her wedding day?!!!”

Morley stood there in complete silence. 

“I lied to her on her wedding day.

I always hated him.”

Morley looked up, meeting Thomas’s eyes. She smiled. 

“People-pleaser.” 

“Like you can’t relate…”

They smiled at each other. Thomas walked over to Morely. 

“Can I hug you?”

“Please do.”

He held her tightly, and warm. She held him back. 

Morley exhaled in reprieve. 

“Has she eaten anything today? Do you know?”

“She has not eaten anything. She hasn’t really been out of her room in about 3 days.”

“Jesus Morely.”

“Her husband walked out. Her house is gone. She got laid off. I poked a nerve. 

I think she’s acting accordingly.”

“Ok. I’m gonna heat up some oatmeal and bring it up to her.”

“You can try.”

Thomas shot Morley a dirty look as she shrugged and went back to chopping. With the most kindness and care, he began assembling a tray for Agatha. When he was through Morley complimented him on his efforts and reassured him as he left the kitchen to ascend to Agatha’s room. 

“She’s gonna love it.”

Holding the tray with one hand he knocked on the door with the other. 

No response. Thomas knocked again. Just the same. 

He went into her room slowly, gingerly. Setting the tray on one side of the bed, he then approached Agatha. Kneeling close to her tear soaked face. He kissed her nose and gently cleared the hair out of her face. 

 “My little bird. It’s time to wake up.”  

Agatha remained still, silent. Thomas grunted himself upright and opened up the curtains. She turned away and shrouded herself in her blankets. 

“A little light won’t kill you.”

Muffled while under the covers “Says who?”

“Me. I’m a doctor.”

Agatha sat up from under the covers unveiling herself. “Funny.”

“ You know I’m your court jester dear lady. 

 Come on sweets. Some light will do you good. Aaaaand…

You gotta eat something.”

Agatha looked over at the tray. The most salient piece in the entire assortment was the bouquet of flowers Thomas had arranged for her. She sat there delicately observing. With no surprise to herself she began to tear up and slowly smiled. 

“Freesias.you remembered”

“I remembered.”

Agatha looked over at Thomas with care in her eyes.”

“They’re very fragrant. I wanted them for my wedding. Mathew hated them, thought they were tacky.”

“I disagree wholeheartedly. Then again it is pretty tacky to cheat on your wife… so, what would he know about class?”

Thomas snickered, Agatha looked away in dismay. 

“I want to go back to sleep.”

Thomas walked over to her from the window. He got in bed with her, which she met with objection. 

“No! Come on now! I stink!”

“You can go back to sleep after you eat something.” Thomas extended his arms wide and enveloped Agatha as she caved becoming putty to the feel of his touch. He held her tight and kissed her forehead, rubbed her shoulder. He slowly got up and brought over the tray. He grabbed the vase and  shoved the clutter on her nightstand to make room. With concave, rounded shoulders Agatha sat up to the best of her ability like a wilted flower. She gestured towards the tray, Thomas humorously slapped her hand out of the way. He dipped the spoon into the bowl of oatmeal and fed her until the very last bite.

The spoon clattered at the bottom of the bowl. He poured her coffee for her from the percolator into a bright chartreuse mug with patterned golden roses, her favorite mug. As bright as she once used to be. Her eyes widened at the first sip. 

“You put cinnamon in this?”

“No That was all Morely. I just served it. I take it you like?”

“I adore it. It tastes like… home. Wherever that is.”

“Where you are.” 

“She's probably tired of me isn't she?”

“No. She’s just scared. She doesn’t know what to do. She’s never been..”

“-Overly affectionate? Hands on?.. Warm…”

“-Now! With you? She is All those things and more. Of course to her capacity. 

She cares about you deeply, Aggy.” 

At once Agatha shot over a sharp dirty look. 

“I hate th-”

“Get over it! Been calling you that since college.

You know, say what you want but you’re out here being as much of an overachiever as ever. The whole rule of threes.. Lady do you go above and beyond. You surely finish what you start.”

“Why can’t I finish life while I’m at it?”

Thomas held Aggy tightly. “You haven’t wandered down paths you need to travel. I know… Trite.”

Despite her own resistance, Agatha let out a faint chuckle. 

“I win!”

“Shut up.”

She clung to him, brought him in close as though she’d run out of him. 

“There's more, beautiful. So much more.”

“I feel so stupid.I can’t even fucking shower.” 

“My little dove… I’d be far more concerned over you if you weren't like this. 

Remember when I lost Maggie?” 

“That’s different. I’m out here crying over a boy.”

“-And house, and job, and money, and car… 

“I’m not trying to play pain olympics with you Aggy.”

“You lost your child.”

“ Yeah. And then I got a DUI. And I started stealing my dad’s pain meds. And I shut everyone out. And I neglected my wife. 

Billie divorced me. I don't blame her. It wasn’t her job to take care of her degenerate alcoholic husband. She missed her baby too. 

And then.. When I was at my lowest?”

“...Morley sent you a portrait of Maggie she had painted long before her passing. And she sent you money.”

“Never a proud moment. 

And you?”

“I cooked for you.”

“You made me lacquered duck with fucking confit. You lied and said you’d made em’ plenty of times before-you aged a duck in your garage for two weeks… 

Drove me to AA. All those silly little walks. All the times you dragged me out of the house. A year after her passing, you took me dancing on my birthday.” 

“You hated every second.”

“No. I had never danced for anyone but Billie on our wedding day, and Maggie when she had her dance recital. 

I didn't hate it. I just didn’t know what I was doing. But I had fun and really, you always showed up. It wasn’t your job, yet…”

“You yelled at me a lot.”

“Yep. And you yelled back. Thank God!”

Without trepidation, Agatha chuckled. 

Agatha rested on his chest intently listening to his pulse. It soothed her quite well. They breathed in together at her command. Weaving his fingers in between hers Thomas firmly held her hand. 

“My pretty girl. You’re gonna be just fine. 

It just sucks that this is a road to ‘fine.’” 

The street lamps bathed the exterior in orange lights. Thomas lowered the curtains. Agatha’s room was pitch black once more. Thomas stepped out the threshold, his arms extended, tray in hand. For a brief moment he turned to the inside. She laid comfortably, sleeping soundly and he paused to observe her respiration. Thomas smiled to himself. As he descended the stairs a wonderful aroma wafted throughout the home.  Dinner was almost ready. He swiftly appeared in the kitchen. Morley was head down over her counter as she cut into a baguette over a glass of red wine. He set down the tray and began washing the dishes. 

“She’s asleep again. She was really tired.”

“Well, good because this shit ain’t gonna be ready for another hour and a half. We’re eating hella late tonight. And our best friend/your beguiling darling is going to join us.”

“Good. It smells amazing. I’m excited.”

“Hmmmm… 

How did she like her coffee? Did you make it correctly? She’s really picky, you know.”

“She loved it.

I kind of lied and said you made it.” 

“Before she liked it?”

“After.”

“Why?”

“It’s not my place to say otherwise.”

“Thomas, you were up there for nearly 5 hours.”

“I- feel for her.”

“As you always have.” 

“Morely…”

“Thomas.” 

Once more, a palpable silence hovered over the room. 

“One day I’ll tell her. But when that day happens? Neither of us will ever know.”