12.21.2015
After his shower, he threw on jeans and a T-shirt and walked into the kitchen. Liz was wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, evidently watching a show on the TV which lay flat on the wall, its border blush and seamless to the wall.
“How are you feeling today?” she asked as Tern poured raisin bran into a bowl.
He reached into the fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk and poured it over his cereal. “Feeling a lot better. Neck’s a little bit stuff, but otherwise I feel okay.”
He picked up a bowl, and a spoon from the drawer which clanked with silverware as he nudged it back shut.
“Well that’s fantastic to hear considering how you looked yesterday.”
He made his way over to the tall kitchen table and sat down. His butt squeaked over the material as he sank into it.
“No kidding,” he said. “And I’m headed to a clinic in a while to see what the hell that was all about.”
“What time is your appointment?” she asked.
He’d just taken a spoonful of cereal as he mumbled, “Two.” He looked over to her as he chewed and she nodded.
She nudged the volume of the TV up a few bars. She was watching a sitcom he’d seen several times before about a Canadian family who had just moved from a small town, where wilderness guide was the economy, to south Florida because the Dad’s family had decided to retire there a few years ago but the Dad’s Dad was starting to lose it a bit.
The young kids were the focus of the show as they adjusted to live 50° warmer and 10 times more chaotic. This episode features fishing off a pier for sharks, and the oldest one convincing the youngest that if the shark were really mean they might be forced to feed the youngest to it, to make it happy.
Just then, a small nibble on the line caused the boy to run away from the railing, fishing pole still in hand, and has he ran he hooked the fish, brought it up out of the water, and it then lay flopping on the pier. The brothers had to convince the youngest that it wasn’t really a baby shark and that they could take the fish right on home and have Mom and Dad cook it in the oven for dinner.
Tern finished his cereal and drained the milk and the last few flakes of bran. The show cut to a commercial break and Tern asked Liz, as she bumped the volume back down, “I’m headed to the Shorn Shelf Mall for that appointment. Want me to get you anything while I’m there?”
She bobbled her head a bit as she decided whether to ask or not.
“What is it?” he asked, setting the bowl in the sink and rinsing it out.
“Well…” she began. “Only if you walk directly passed it,” she said nervously, “would you grab one of those fresh rolled Arronsen’s pretzels?
Tern laughed, having expected the request to be much more awkward. “Sure, I can do that.”
“But don’t go out of your way. Seriously.”
“Okay, but why?”
“I don’t need the calories, but if you cross its path, it must be fate.”
He laughed again. “But won’t you have to share with Erin?”
“I guess you’d better make it two then.”
“I’ll pay you back,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said as he slipped on a coat and some shoes, “I still owe you for tacos last week.”
He grabbed his keys and his wallet and headed for the door. “I’ll see you in a bit,” he said. She waved after him, turning up the TV again as the next portion of the show began.