The drizzle started late in the afternoon and turned into a storm the moment she set dinner on the table. What shit weather, she thought. Fucking awful, getting in the way of her responsibilities and making everything gross.
Yes, with the water everything went damp, sticky, moldy, mildewed and disgusting. Even her.
Tonight they'd have chicken, rice with carrots, lentils and an arugula salad. They'd also have a free meltdown session, only nobody knew that.
Not even her.
Liar.
Not entirely. Her internal hurricane radar had been off for two good years. A collection of wonderful and terrible memories, but ones she remembered.
"Everything okay, love?" Daniel asked, for the fiftieth time in seven years, and thank God.
Only, right now, it was no grace.
"Yeah, just thinking." Okay answer. "Can you serve Pedro some food? I need to use the bathroom." She silently prayed her face was as neutral as soap.
"Sure. What do you want to eat, bud?" Dumb question: a kid never wants to eat what's actually good for him. But Daniel knew how to handle the boy better than she did.
As she left, she heard the usual "Just rice and meat," followed by her husband's authoritative voice.
She loved that.
Lightning split the sky and more rain fell as she stopped and sat on the toilet lid. Finally alone, she just stared at the white tiles and gave in to the body's call. The beast was selfish and starving for dreams, so she gave the bastard what it wanted so badly.
She thought, and thought, and thought. Opened every door in her mind and none of them seemed good enough.
I have to do something.
Thump.
I can't keep going like this.
Thump thump thump.
Breathe in deep, fill your belly, let it out through your mouth and focus on some part of your body.
Shut the fuck up, Bruna! What was her psychologist doing in here? That never helped anyone.
Visualize and breathe. Count five objects you can see. Good... Great. Bubbling nicely in there? Now count three you want to smash over someone's head.
"Love, is everything okay?" Her husband's voice sounded faint in her ears, but she gathered the strength to lie again.
"Yeah, I think my period's coming. I'll be out soon, go ahead and eat without me."
"Okay." He didn't buy it. "If you need anything, call me or shout." But he accepted it all the same.
What a good, understanding man she had.
Weak.
Hey, you stopped counting. Go back and breathe.
Thump thump thump thump thump.
This asshole won't even let me calm down in peace.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...
Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump.
It was a deep, dark blue, and I knew I should stay away, but I'd only done what I shouldn't until now, so why not risk it one last time?
Someone was always there, always a man and always close. The touch doesn't bother me here, nothing can really reach me here. Only him.
I wanted to ask the name of the stranger who sometimes wore familiar faces, but not tonight. Tonight he was a dense blur my own size.
Thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump.
The memory of the dream fed her mind and sped up her heart. She felt her cheeks burn and her body rise in that tiny space.
She had so much energy she could explode.
Everything her eyes landed on had a beautiful second layer, like that awful shiny glaze they put on the strawberry tarts at the supermarket.
She'd eat two hundred of those, yes.
She didn't notice she was stomping her feet to a rhythm that echoed her favorite song of the moment, or when she opened the bathroom door singing and smiling. Light, finally.
She went straight to the kitchen and looked at her husband and son sitting at the table, beautiful.
Hers.
Before she could process it, her eyes were already full (good water) and the affection swelled bigger than her body. She wanted to wrap them both up and keep them there.
The beast didn't exist anymore; she'd killed the thing in the bathroom.
She thanked Bruna for the help and sat down to eat, nearly knocking the chair over with her own strength.
Pedro and Daniel stared at her, a little distressed.
"What?" she asked, with a slight smile.
"Are you really okay?" And he cut his chicken.
"Why wouldn't I be?" The glaze had covered her anger too, and it dripped onto her husband's plate.
"Nothing, you just changed out of nowhere. I want to make sure you're okay. I'm here if you need anything."
Seven years at her side had turned Daniel into a war general.
Thunder and more rain. Pedro went back to eating and Daniel stared at her one last time before returning to his plate.
Drops a bomb in your lap and goes back to normal like nothing happened.
And nothing had happened, really. She was happy and wired, wanted to dance.
Where are my headphones?
She looked at the food and felt no urge to touch it. In fact, the shine on all those mixed-up things made her want to throw everything out and wash the plate.
That's what she did, and this time nobody asked Whether She Was Okay, which was perfect.
She washed all the dishes, the sink, the drying rack and the soap dispenser. Moved on to the stove and worked with the same magic. Cleaned the entire kitchen in half an hour.
In the following days there were no tired naps, interesting books or drawings. She worked like never before, her love for handwork had come back and she wanted to build a world of shining sweets.
She rewarded Daniel with a reckless desire, and the shine covered them both until dawn. No sleep, no dreams, no sign of her Stranger.
She didn't miss him, didn't feel anything.