#presense

Angst

It was Keith's plan to stay in that day. Alone. He is off work for the 4th and after revisiting the fire that changed his life the previous night, he feels the need to kinda shelter in place today.

He is in the middle of binge watching ' How ir is Made' when there is a knock on the door. He jumps. No one comes by. He can't even remember when he had a visitor. He pauses the TV and approaches the door like he would a snake. With extreme caution and a healthy respect for possible danger. Venomous or not, snakes scared him. As does unexpected visitors.

"Who is it?" He calls out before disengaging the lock.

"It is Carri. You know from work?"

Carri. He knows her. A tiny little lady with hair a bit darker then his own. Her's is straight and falls just a bit bellow her neck. Glasses cover her soft brown eyes. A sweet enough woman that he has passed maybe a dozen words with.

He opens the door. She stands with her hands clasped tight on her purse. And it hits him. She is nervous too. But why is she here?

"Ahhh Carri. Would you---like to come in?" He tries to recall his seldom used hospitality.

"Yes. Thank you."

She enters ahead of him. He follows her in and shuts and reengages the lock. He sees her flinch at the sound. What is this?

"It is just a safety precaution. I am not locking you in." He tells her.

"Yes. Of course." She just stands there. What now?

"Ahh drinks. I mean would you like something to drink? I don't keep alcohol but have tea, coffee, water, or juice." He feels like he is reciting the appropriate lines. The whole situation feels unreal. How long has it been since he had someone here?

"No. But thank you. I am fine."

"Would you like to have a seat?" He gestures to the couch or the recliner.

"Thanks," she chooses the recliner and sits perched at the edge of it. Like she is prepared to flee.

"Carri it was, errr is nice you stopped by. I have very few visitors."

"And are hardly ever seen outside of work."

"That too."

"We were all surprised to see you yesterday."

"Yes I just.." He trails off and shrugs. He has no idea how to finish.

"It is why I am here. I..well I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we don't talk a lot at work but..I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"That is so sweet. I am.." And he can't do it. Can't say the socially acceptable ' fine'. Because he isn't.

"I am not doing so well actually."

"Anything I can help with? That you want to talk with me about?"

Does he? Is that the reason he went to the picnic yesterday? So he could start to open up about his past?

"I had a bad dream, no to mild. I had a nightmare last night."

"I am sorry," she moves over to the couch, instinctively drawing nearer.

"It was about my past. I was a foster child. There was a fire in my fosterparent's house. I was the only one who made it out." His voice cracks and he is crying. He feels her soft hands on his. She just holds his hands. She doesn't speak but her presence, her touch is enough. He weeps for himself. For the little lost boy he was. For his foster siblings. For Angela, the only person close to a sister he had ever had. For TJ who was but two at the time of the fire. For them all.

When he is done, she gently squeezes his hands and gets up. She makes her way to the kitchen and he hears her rattling around. He is to exhausted to have the energy to investigate what she is doing.

She soon returns with two cups of tea.

"It is camomile with honey. It is soothing to the body and spirit."

"Thank you. I didn't.."

"Hush. You needed too. Grief comes in waves. And can sometimes pull you into the deep if no one is there to grasp you hand. I am glad I was here."

"Me too."