I try to be as quiet as I can as I prepare coffee and get dressed. It’s not really awkward sleeping on the camping mattress, as it did work as my bed. But it is a little weird, after all these months, to not sleep in my room. I’m happy to give up my bed and my room until we find Sen’s family and identity. I’m glad to be able to have the chance to help somebody out, the way people have helped me out.

I’m not sure if Sen drinks coffee. I should’ve asked her before I left. Instead, though, I leave a small note with directions to all the different roasts, should she want any. She seems to know her way around a kitchen, even if I hadn’t let her fix anything last night, given how tired she was.

I’m slipping on my shoes when I spot hers, and think about the clothes of hers I never got a chance to take to the Laundromat. She really should have clothes other than the ones I’m letting her borrow. I quietly shut and lock the door, before pausing to think whom I might ask for help.

( An idea )

I scan down through the numbers in my phone. The current holiday, which I will no longer celebrate, reminds me that my first anniversary of my life in London has already come and gone, and I haven't done a single thing about it.

I want to celebrate it with somebody, but the person I would want to celebrate with is the one that I can't and really shouldn't anyways even if I could. I'll need to call him up soon. I mean, I do call Tyler all the time, but a special call of some sort. I guess I can say it's enough that I'm wearing my contrabande stars-n-stripes boxers. He probably is, too.

( Independence Day )

My library is becoming extremely crowded and with new titles by some of my favorite authors coming out soon, I won’t have anywhere to put the ones I buy. It’s time to start weeding out my library and make room. It’s too bad that used bookstores don’t give back cash for books, but I do a bit of shopping at used bookstores, so I’ll need the credit, and that in turn will save me money.

I pack a little ice in a cooler and pop a couple bottles into it. I’ve already had lunch and got the laundry done just after breakfast, so I have the entire afternoon to go through all my books, and maybe even take them to Charing Cross.

I pop open a bottle and set the cooler on my bed. I’ve got so many books, it’s hard to know where to start. I guess my first order of business would be to pick out all my favorites, all my “family” so to speak. Or perhaps I should alphabetize them by author. Or sort them by genre.

I shake my head. I need to figure out one thing to do first. One thing at a time.

I drink about half of my beer before I finally make up my mind and start working on the library. Most of the books, I simply skim right over, as they’ve become fixtures in my collection. Many of them are the same titles that were constants in my collection back in Colorado. They’ve become like family, and for a time they were family. But I’ve progressed a lot since then.

The pile on my bed, though fairly small in comparison, is steadily forming a mountain. After a short break and a chance to take my bottles to the recycling, I continue, only to stop a few minutes in when I run across an old adversary.

I say adversary because, though I had tried countless times to tackle the damn thing, I never could get so much as a chapter into it. That book on abandonment. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands. I suppose I should’ve figured I wouldn’t be able to solve my problems with a book, especially not a non-fiction book. No matter how easily novels are for me in which to immerse myself, there is a block up in my mind when it comes to non-fiction.

I look at it for only a few moments more and then toss it onto the bed. But I don’t get back to work. I bought that book in an act of desperation. I bought it because nothing else seemed to be working. And after what happened…

No, I’m not going to think about what happened. That’s in the past now and there’s nothing I can do to change it, nor would I want to change it. The experience was tough, but I saw the kind of man Henry is.

I look at the book again. It won’t help me. I can’t depend on books. They are my comfort, not my answer. I’ve looked enough for comfort. It’s time to get my answers, or my new life is in a sorry state.

I sit down on the bed and look at the bottle in my hands. I need help. I told Arrah that I would get help, and I will, but the more I think of the idea of paying somebody to help me makes it feel so…wrong. I don’t want someone to help me because I give them money. Sure, I’m a freaking mess, but it makes me feel like a car.

But to whom else would I go?

It occurs to me that any help that my friends could give or any that I would receive, might be hampered by our pasts. Maybe that’s why nothing came of it. But if I’m not going to pay somebody to wiggle their fingers around in my mind, and I’m not going to go to my friends for help…

Tripod’s owners. I hardly know them, and they’ve seen me as a blubbering mass of pathetic, but they still offered to help. They have very little impression of me. I have very little of them. The girl seems relatively even minded, if a bit spacey. Well, that would suit just fine, as I’m quite a bit spacey.

I grab up my phone and press through the numbers. I feel numb, but dizzy. I take a deep breath to settle my stomach and weave a little as I hit send.

The phone rings several times and just when I expect it to switch into voice mail I hear the sound of Arrah’s voice.

“Kevin?” She asks and I can hear the smile in her voice. “How are you?”

“Hey Arrah,” I say, amazed at how naturally casual I can make my voice sound, given what’s just happened and how dead I feel at the moment. “Are you free to hang out this evening?”

There is a distinct pause and I feel a small moment of panic, but it’s almost instantly dulled. She has other obligations. I shouldn’t expect that she can just drop her plans with…and come by just because I’ve had a bad day. She’d probably be sick of the whole situation anyway. I wouldn’t blame her.

“Of course I can hang out with you tonight. Did you want to meet at our favorite Chinese place? Or just meet up at your place?”

“How about just meeting up at my place,” I suggest. “Meeting up at the restaurant would just waist more time, and you’d have far less opportunities to catch me in my bare-feet that way.”

“Its nearly summer, I am bound to see you in bare feet more often now, or at least in sandals.” She replies and I can hear the humor in her voice. “I can be there in about 15 minutes. Just waiting to pay for something I went shopping for and I will be right over. Should I pick up anything along the way?”

“If you’d like,” I answer.

“I always hate coming over empty handed so I will pick up something. Be there in 20 minutes.” She says confidently. “Bye for now.”

“Bye Arrah,” I return and close my phone. Now I have twenty minutes to wait. But at least there’s something to wait for. I close my eyes and let out a tired breath, lying down on my bed.

As soon as I get home from work, I go directly to my room and plug my phone in to charge, completely ignoring everything else. I feel…disgusting. There’s a sick feeling in my stomach, a mix of guilt and fear and hurt.

I’ve tried to call Henry a few times over the past couple weeks, but he hasn’t returned my calls. Any of them. He has never done that before. Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Why is he all of a sudden ignoring me?

I climb up on my bed and pick up the dragon keychain. Back when I got the set of three for the three of us, things were so different. I never imagined Justin would leave without word the way he did. I never thought our friendship would end so completely the way it did, with Justin seemingly undisturbed by it.

And now ( Henry is ignoring me )

It could be my imagination, but I seemed to sense something a little different in Padma’s behavior last week. Possibly the week before, but certainly last week. I can’t tell whether it’s good or bad, so I haven’t mentioned it. I know how much I dislike people ferreting into my personal life. I just hope that, whatever it is, it isn’t bad.

Once my cell phone alerts me of breaktime, and I grab my things, I head to the front to meet Padma for lunch. “Hey, ready to stuff our faces?”

"Yes," she answers as she turns from the books she was looking at to face me. "Our usual place?"

I reach out to give her a hug of greeting. “Sure, unless you’d rather change the scenery. You know my tongue; impartial.”

"One day we will find more for you to taste, not just that special drink," she tells me, hugging me back.

I laugh. “I’m not holding out much hope,” I tell her as I hold open the door. “That way, if I don’t taste anything, I won’t be disappointed. If I do, it’s a pleasant surprise.”

"We'll find something." She seems certain. "But let's go to the deli. I feel like soup today for some reason."

“Sure! Who’s paying this week? I lost track.”

"I think it is me," she answers.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I say, chuckling. I’ve become so comfortable with our taking turns to pay, that it hardly registers anymore that she is paying for my food half the time. Now that I’m doing alright, I’m not as touchy about it, too.

"I'll just do my best to remind you that it is your turn next week," she smiles. "So how have you been this past week?"

“I’ve been well,” I answer. “There isn’t really much earth-shattering to share; just the usual. And yourself?”

She seems nervous again. "There is something I do need to talk to you about," she admits.

I furrow my brow. “Is everything alright?” I ask. “Are you alright?”

"I'm okay. I just have something to tell you and I don't know how you'll take it," she nervously touches the chain of the necklace around her neck.

The past four days were horrible, as I’d remembered them being in the past. I felt heavy and achy and as awful as I ever feel. Ron’s mom stripped me down a few times for a bath, to relax my muscles and get the sheen of sweat off. It was nice to have her there, and at the moment I didn’t mind that she was hauling me around naked. Though I should feel embarrassed by this, I’m not. I haven’t been coddled like this since before the divorce.

Still, with how much I relished being taken care of like that when I was sick, I’m glad it’s over and I’m glad she’s gone and I have some space again.

I could be working today, and I really should be there for storytime, but I need a day to spring back from my annual sickdays. So I decided to stay the day inside, walking around the apartment now and then to get my legs used to the task of walking again, and do a little reading.

( Mail )

I called Aunt Linda soon after Ron healed my foot and explained some of the situation to her. As with Ron, I told her that it was a hiking accident. The tricky part was figuring out how to explain the cast. I had been tempted to tell her that my accident happened with Ron, and that he’d healed me on the spot, but there is no reason why I would have a cast on. So I ended up telling her the partial truth; that I was in Colorado at the time and had been taken to the hospital there, but that nobody here had seen me and my roommate did a quick-fix.

Luckily, I had the fortune of having an aunt who lies and needs to get around magical quick-fixes herself. Ever since she got a new hip (wow, is that reminiscent of the geriatric population in the states!), she’s gone back to work. She’s a gardener for some high end estate. When she left, she gave her excuse of health-reasons, so that her reputation wouldn’t be tainted by lack of interest or something like that. Of course, once she returned, she needed a clean bill of health from a doctor.

Aunt Linda said not to worry about it, and said she’d make the appointment for me on Monday. As I waited for her to pick me up, I tried to figure out some lie that a doctor would buy. First off, I couldn’t pass it off as a sprain with this cast on. Secondly, I’d have to figure out how to avoid getting medical history involved. And third, if I got a doctor’s note telling my work that I could go back to work, but with limitations, how in the world would I explain that to work? I was only gone for a week on vacation!

In the end, I decided that I’d explain that my old doctor had died, and that in the chaos of trying to move things, my records had been lost. So I lost my doctor and my records. As for work, I figured that it would work if I asked for two separate notes, one for Julianne who does the schedule and would be the one concerned with my being allowed to come back to work, and one for Giada, the floor manager. Then I’d just toss the one for Julianne.

When Aunt Linda showed up, I explained my story as I’d tell it to the doctor and asked her if time-frame worked. Since I hadn’t ever had a broken bone before, I was unsure, but luckily she’d had a few and corrected it for me. Then I made us both a cup of coffee and we set off.

As I hobbled behind Aunt Linda on my one crutch and my cast, I thought about how funny it was. Six months ago, I was the one walking straight and tall, and Aunt Linda was the one with the limp. Now the roles were reversed.

I tried as hard as I could to block out the cars around us. I had managed back in Colorado, when we were walking the few blocks to the ‘pick-up point.’ It helped that Tyler was linking his arm with mine. Now I just clutch the crutch and try to activate my good old American Tunnel Vision.

The landing after the teleporting was about as expected. I fell on my face and Aunt Linda had to help me up, though she quickly stepped away so that I could regain my composure and dignity.

As we continued on our way, I told Aunt Linda all about my visit…well, as much as I really cared to share, that is. I didn’t go into the confrontation with Bridget, nor did I mention the…unfortunate situation that was Saturday night. I did tell her about the hike, though, and how bad a tumble I took.

The doctor bought my story, probably because he’s Aunt Linda’s non-magical doctor, and soon my cast was off and my foot under the x-ray. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the healing, but looking at the x-ray, it appears as if the spell sped up the healing as if a few months had passed. He showed me the places where the breaks had occurred. The color is a little off from the rest of the bone, but from the looks of it, I’m further along in my healing than my time-frame would have me, but Aunt Linda and I explained it away to my being a fast healer.

It is true. I’m a ridiculously fast healer. This morning as I was looking in the mirror after my shower, I saw that my bruises were fading already, tinted that yellow that means it’s almost healed. I never get sick, save for those four days a year, like clockwork.

He wrote out a few notes for work and a prescription for some milder pain meds, which I highly doubt I’ll take, and then told me to make an appointment for a month from now, instructing me to wear an ace bandage on it and not stay on my feet longer than a half hour at a time. That being the case, I realized I’d have to start biking to work again, and forget the morning jogging for the moment, going for bike rides, instead.

With that whole headache finished with, Aunt Linda took me out to dinner in Magical London, after I dropped the notes off to work so they could have plenty of warning. Tomorrow, it’s back to work and back to life.

Tyler was disgusted to hear that I hadn't seen any snow all winter, so he arranged for us to go up into the Rockies today and take a snow hike. He didn't think of the fact that we had to be in the car to reach there until he told me over breakfast and I seemed to have gone a little pale. But I assured him that I could deal with it.

I was worried that Padma would be left alone, but Mom said she'd called in to school for a sick day, and invited Padma to go shopping with her. Mom never had a daughter...obviously, and she never liked Bridget. Who could blame her? Tyler didn't like her. Greg never felt comfortable around her, and that is saying something, though he doesn't feel comfortable around me, either, but I brought that on us, myself. Anyways, due to that, I think Mom was glad to have somebody to take around with her shopping. I hoped that they'd both enjoy it.

Tyler packed us a lunch as the rest of us ate breakfast, and then he, Greg, and I piled into the car, already in our heavy coats. Tyler and Greg had been with me enough times in the car to know about my thing of rolling down windows. Since this was going to be a long trip, they were prepared.

The drive was long. Over an hour trapped in the car, but I was determined to do this. It was much easier being in a car in Colorado, because I understood the roads and the terrain, and somewhat the people. Not to mention, cars and passengers were where they were supposed to be: on the right side.

In any case, by the time we got there, I was pretty queasy, and stumbled out, gulping in fresh air. The air was fridgid and had that familiar smell of snow that I will always love, and that I'd missed. It didn't take me long to recover, and soon Tyler had loaded Greg and me down with the food and we were on our way.

I had never been hiking with Tyler before, but he and Greg had been several times, especially after I'd left. This was a trail they'd been on a few times before, and they both pointed out their favorite places along the way. I couldn't help smiling at the way they were together on the hike. For once, I felt like the outsider and, no matter how much it might have hurt to think of myself as an outsider in Tyler's life, I was happy. Because of the way I had taken him over, I got the feeling Greg felt like the outsider in his son's life. At least my leaving had helped to fix that, if even a little.

We stopped for lunch on top of a hill and ate, overlooking the plains. I was a little glad for the break. Though I'm in pretty good shape, the air is so much thinner up here, and there are a lot more ups and downs than the city streets of London. By the time we get back to the car, it's getting dark and I'm exhausted. So exhausted, in fact, that I fall asleep almost directly after buckling my seatbelt.

Tyler clung to me all night. I didn’t mind. I’ve missed him so much, I don’t think I would’ve had the heart to let go if he had. The only problem was, since he had been up all day and I had just awakened a few hours earlier, he wore out and fell into sleep while I laid in his arms, wide awake.

So instead I read a book, then watched the sun come up through the window of my old bedroom. I turned off the lamp when the room began to lighten and watched as the sun showed in different light the place in which I’d slept for twenty-four years. It felt so different, even though I had seen that Tyler had kept it relatively the same. But then in the last ten months, I had had about three different rooms, the last one changing gradually into what it’s now become. And I’ve been changing, too. Changing so much that the room and house that I’d known for so long is like walking into a museum of my life.

Some time after the sun had gone completely up, though, I fell asleep and only now awake. At first, my head muzzy from the nap, I’m confused, by the last year and about last night, wondering which had been the dream. My arms are empty, as is the bed. It’s already been made, the blankets having been under me the entire night. I prop myself on my shoulder a look around.

( A day out in Colorado )