The Second Morning

3

The morning was crisp, hints of ice in the corners of the multi-paned windows. Rachel was staring down at him, a coffee in each hand. She was frowning and did not look pleased. Ugh. This was not a good way for Tim to wake up.

“What’s up?” to his groggy mind this was a valid question. This was a weird way to wake someone.

“I got you a coffee.” She proffered him an enormous cardboard cup from Dunkin Donuts which he reached up to take. “Regular to be safe. Get up. Up! We should be going!”

Rachel shook her head in disgust and stomped away to noisily clean up. He was left laying down and awkwardly holding a steaming cup of coffee above his prone and vulnerable body. Wait a minute…

“Hey, did you get yourself Starbucks?” She had been holding not only two different drinks, but drinks from two different places.

“Yup.” She slurped.

“Why the hell did you get me Dunkin Donuts if you were going to Starbucks for yourself anyway?” He exploded, nearly blinded with rage. He didn’t have a full cap on his emotions first thing in the morning and she’d been needling him for days. This was the final straw.

“You seem like a Dunkin guy” Mocking, why the fuck was this getting to him so much?

Tim scrambled up as best he could, wrapped in sheets and holding what was surely the world’s third largest coffee. It didn’t go well. By the time Tim had gotten up, put the coffee down somewhere safe and wrapped the sheets in some semblance of modesty around his boxer clad body he was no longer angry. Sheepish even.

“Thanks.” He picked up the coffee and took a sip that he had to immediately spit out as dignified as he could. “Too hot!” There must have been a Dunkin next door it was so fucking hot.

Rachel allowed him to collect his tattered dignity into a cloak of shame and get ready in silence. She brought a few things out with her and sat outside with her coffee, smoking and fiddling with her phone.

Tim got ready, sitting on the recliner to put on fresh socks and his shoes, still with a remnant of the fire’s warmth. He was a bit surprised he had been so overcome last night. And angry this morning. He had reasons he supposed, but it wasn’t like him. He had given up. He hadn’t felt anything in so long he didn’t know how to handle it…

Tim finished getting ready and put his stuff in the car. Rachel was ready to roll, dropping a final cigarette butt to burn to death near a few of its newly departed brothers. She looked irked but hadn’t rushed him so he didn’t say a thing. Tim got in the car at the same time she did.

They got on their way, Tim deciding that this morning he would see if he could get anymore answers, anything that would help. The trip should be a while longer, but it was already the third day and Tim had a feeling things were accelerating.