When Helen gently touched Fred’s shoulder he sat bolt upright, a pain shooting through his neck and his eyes moving about wildly, trying to see who’d done that. Helen had leapt back a bit when Fred jumped and was behind him.
“Are you all right, Fred?” she asked.
Recognizing her voice, Fred relaxed a little. “Yeah,” he squeaked. Then he cleared his throat, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and said, “yeah... yeah, I’m fine,” in deeper tones.
Helen, her hand resting on her chest and her own eyes a bit wide said, “Oh that’s good.” She was clearly much relieved.
“I... I didn’t sleep very well last night,” offered Fred, realizing that an explanation might be in order.
“That’s ok, Fred,” comforted Helen. “I just didn’t see you in the lunch room and had heard that you were here, so thought I’d check on you. Mr. Grieves has been going around to talk to employees again, so it just seemed like .... well... a good idea.”
Helen had moved to where Fred could see her as she talked. He smiled his appreciation. “Thank you, Helen. I don’t know what happened.....” his voice trailed off.
Helen just nodded and slowly backed out of Fred’s little office. “Maybe get refreshed and get something to eat, Fred,” she suggested maternally. “You’ll feel better.” And with a little wave and another nod of her head, she was gone.
Fred got up slowly from his desk. He had to go to the washroom anyway. Eat? A machine again, he guessed.
When Myrtle pulled up outside his building, Fred was waiting there, looking just a tad rumpled. He had eaten only a bag of chips and a hot rod pepperette one of the girls in the outer office offered him when he was having trouble with the chip machine. After downing a bottle of water in response to the heat of the pepperette, he’d wiled away the rest if the afternoon on a few non-rush shipping orders. Luckily there was nothing urgent he had to attend to, so he just focussed on surviving the day. Mr. Grieves never did darken his door, but Fred had a feeling he needn’t relax too much on that score.
When he bent to climb into his car, Myrtle was smiling back at him, her injured eye now covered with a rather rakish, blue patch. Fred smiled. “Aaaarrr...” he offered, doing his best pirate imitation and smiling more deeply.
Myrtle giggled. “My eye is coming along,” she said happily. “I just have to expose it to daylight slowly... bit at a time,” she explained.
Fred realized he was staring. “It looks great, Myrtle,” he said. “And I’m glad your eye will be ok.” Myrtle looked just a little different with this kind of eye patch in place of the bandage patch. Fred was intrigued. And aroused. He actually blushed as Myrtle started the car and put it in gear. She felt his eyes on her and glanced at him as she headed for the exit. But then she had to concentrate on driving.
Fred's stomach growled. “I’m awfully hungry, Myrtle,” he said, once they were on the highway. “I forgot my lunch today. Haven’t had much.”
“Oh, poor Fred,” she sympathized. She hadn’t even noticed that morning that Fred was without his usual brown bag. “What do you want to do, Fred? Fast food?”
“If you don’t mind, Myrtle. Just anywhere would be fine. I don’t know if I can last till we get to your place even.”
Myrtle didn’t want to just stop at a hamburger joint. She knew of a Chinese food place in a strip mall nearby. “Chinese?” she asked.
“Sure,” enthused Fred. “Haven’t had that in a long time!”
So the two enjoyed another meal out. They chose a suitable table in the little place and Fred, making it into a sitting position safely, focussed on the food possibilities. It was one of those places where you could order a dinner choice, rather than just choosing different dishes off the larger menu, so they decided to each order a number 5: mushroom fried rice with chicken balls and Chinese vegetables, then they compared birth signs and animals from the place mats in the restaurant as they waited for their meals.
The only mishap this time was some sweet and sour sauce dribbled onto Fred’s soft collar. Myrtle wasn’t sure that stain would come out, but patted Fred on the hand and assured him that she’d try. After dinner, there was a little dance outside as both headed for the driver’s door of the car.
“You’re tired, Fred,” said Myrtle. “I’ll drive home.”
Fred wasn’t sure what he felt about that, but he was still undeniably tired, so he climbed once again into the passenger seat. He only got his car back once they got to Myrtle’s place where he went in for a glass of milk while Myrtle took his collar to the kitchen sink and tried to get out the stain as best she could without soaking it through. At least she was able to reduce the brightness of the stain for him. Then, after a little snuggle on the couch, Fred said he’d better go home. Despite his interest in Myrtle’s new look, he knew he couldn't do anything about it, and when he thought about why he couldn't, his mind automatically drifted to what was coming at the end of the week. So he really just wanted to be in his room, alone.
.
Myrtle understood completely and after kissing him goodnight, she listened to make sure he made it back to his car safely. Then she went about tidying her wee house before settling down with a book. As darkness deepened, she dimmed the light, put the book down and took off her eye patch. She would try to sleep without it on.
Fred was so tired when he got home that even his mother’s taunting didn’t get a rise out of him. He just waved a dismissive had in her direction as she gave him the business for forgetting his lunch. “So you won’t have to make me one tonight,” he shrugged. “I’ll take that one tomorrow. Stop complaining, Mother.”
Flora was shocked into silence. Fred had never spoken to her like that before. But he didn’t really notice her reaction as he disappeared into his room. Though his sleep was fitful and filled with stress dreams, he slept through the night.
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