He took plates and cutlery from the cupboards and started to set the table, then suddenly stopped. “Oh… am I being too pushy?” he asked. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” she said. She was sitting at the table, and now he noticed she was still in the same battered pajama shirt and loose college pants she’d had last night. She looked tired, dirty, and messy. She probably wasn’t too perky, even when she wasn’t quite as ill as last night.
“I just went through your cupboards yesterday, so I know where everything is,” he continued. “I’m sorry. But you were kinda out of it and I couldn’t ask you.”
He blushed a little and turned to the fridge. He felt like an idiot.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked. “You’ve got apple, orange or pineapple juice. And water.”
“I do, huh?” she said and smiled when he turned to look at her. She was pretty, even with her hair dirty and messy and wearing crumpled, baggy clothes, but when she smiled, she was truly beautiful. He was left speechless, holding the fridge door open, staring at her in awe.
“I mean it was you who bought all that, right?” she said, still smiling.
“Well, yes,” he stuttered. To break himself from his spell, he set all the juice cartons on the table. Then he explained how he had gone to the pharmacy but hadn’t managed to get her medicine in the first go, so he had done a rerun with the pharmacy form. He recounted how he had observed her lack of reserves while putting the cat food out, and how he had decided to buy her some groceries.
“I mean, you were quite sick,” he said feebly. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I bought a little of everything.”
“That was really nice of you,” she said. “I didn’t want to burden you.”
Now he realized she was probably meaning to say he had been too assuming.
“Well,” he said, “I live by myself, so I know how much it sucks to be sick alone. But I’m sorry if I’ve been too pushy. I know I at least shouldn’t have spent the night here. You know I was here last night, right?” he asked, suddenly concerned she didn’t even know. She nodded.
“You had such a high fever, and your breathing was so awful, I was just worried. I called the health line, and they told me to monitor you, and I didn’t know how to do that without being here with you. I do realize it’s awful of me to… to barge into your bed like that. I’m sorry.”
He looked at his plate, at her, at his plate again.
“I’ll just shut up now,” he concluded meekly.
“No, it’s okay,” she said. “More than okay. I didn’t expect you to be so… caring. I don’t know anyone, so I had no one to ask, but then finally I just had to. I’m glad it was you. I don’t know how to ever pay you back.”
She gestured over her food. “And now, this,” she said. “And you even cleaned up after my cat.”
He shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better. I’ll give you your keys back now.”
She didn’t say anything. They ate in silence. Afterwards they both hovered uncomfortably and then she said, “Would you keep the keys?”
“Yes, if you think it’s best,” he said, picking up his pan to go. His heart was thumping in his chest. She probably meant for him to come back, if she wanted him to keep the keys, and he couldn’t really grasp what it implied. “Are you alright for now? Do you need anything?”
“No, I’m good,” she said. She moved to hug him for thanks, and then she seemed to realize she was in her grubby home clothes, and, quite frankly, filthy. She blushed deep red.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m disgusting. I didn’t realize.”
“No, you’re not,” he said encouragingly, and stroked her arm a little with the hand not holding the pan. “Just take a long bath, you’ll feel better.”
“Do you have a bathtub?” she asked.
“Yeah, don’t you?” he replied. “You wanna use mine?”
He suddenly realized he was being overly pushy again. They didn’t know each other, and he had no reason to assume she would want to come to his place to bathe, of all things. He blushed.
“I’d like that,” she said. They looked at each other, both with their cheeks burning. He turned to the door, thoroughly out of balance.
“You wanna come over now, or sometime later?” he asked. “I need to work, but you can come bathe if you wanna.”
He almost hoped she would say later, so he would have time to recompose himself, but she followed him to his place. He showed her to the bathroom and went back to work. He calmed gradually when he wasn’t face to face with her anymore, but thinking of her naked in his bathtub didn’t help very much. He thought of her slender body, how her breasts would float in the water, and wondered if she had shaved her pubic hair.
Now that was a thought that definitely didn’t help him concentrate on his work.
He realized he hadn’t given her a towel. He went to get one and spotted his bathrobe hanging on his bedroom door. He picked it up as well and went to knock on the bathroom door.
“Johanna?” he said. “I brought you a towel and a bathrobe, alright? I’ll just leave them here.”
There was a sobbing sound from the bathroom.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
She sobbed again. He hovered behind the door, conflicted. He couldn’t enter, she was naked in there, but he couldn’t ignore her crying.
“Johanna, talk to me,” he said. “Why are you crying?”
She sobbed again. “I’m sorry,” she said with a stuffy voice. “I just feel so stupid.”
“Why?” he asked. She didn’t answer.
“Listen, I’ll just leave these out here, okay? Please come talk to me when you’re done, I’ll be in the living room.”
He walked away, and it felt like he had abandoned her. He went to put the kettle on and thought he’d offer her afternoon tea after she had bathed.
Ten minutes later Johanna appeared. She stood by the living room doorway, wrapped in his gray fluffy bathrobe that was way too big for her. Her eyes were red, and she looked insecure and unhappy.
“Hi there,” he said and got up, pushing his laptop away. “I was making tea. You want some?”
She shrugged, and he walked towards her to get to the kitchen. She looked so pitiful that an overwhelming need to just hold her filled his heart, and he stopped in front of her.
“I hope you weren’t crying because of me,” he said and touched her arm.
She looked like she wanted to flee. Her eyes darted from him to away and she said, quietly, “No, not like that. I just felt so stupid when I realized I didn’t bring a towel, or a change of clothes or anything, I just barged in here. And then you brought me the towel and the robe, and it was so nice of you I cried some more. Does that even make sense? You’ve been so good to me. I’m not used to people being so good to me.”
Relief washed through his system. Maybe he hadn’t been too pushy after all.
Her eyes were a little glossy, and without thinking he lifted his hand from her arm and touched her forehead.
“I think your fever is going up again,” he said. “Come on, sit down, I’ll get you some tea.”
She curled up in an armchair, legs folded under her, and sipped her tea obediently. She shivered every now and then, and he guessed she was chilly now that her temperature was rising. They chatted, talked about his work, then hers, then some general talk about the recent events in the neighborhood. She was three years younger than his 29, and worked mostly from home, just like he did. She was Swedish, like he’d guessed. She had come to Britain for a student exchange four years ago and decided to stay.