32. He flirted with me once

                                    

                                          
"If I think, everything is lost."
― Paul Cézanne
***
December 1966
"Get up."
I groaned and pushed my head further into the pillow. It didn't make sense that birds were already chirping when it was dark and raining five minutes ago. Perhaps I was still dreaming, and Lydia wasn't nagging me, poking my shoulder every five seconds and pushing out loud sighs.
I turned around, comforted by the thought and sank my fingers into the duvet.
"Addie, I'm not kidding. Get up." 
Lydia shook my shoulders, and then the splash came. Cold, drenching my shirt and chasing the last bit of sleep from my brain.
The shock made me instantly jerk upright in the bed as I gasped. "What the fuck?" 
I pulled the duvet tighter around me as the cold water seeped through my clothes. 
"It's noon, get up. We're going out to lunch." She was staring at me with a scowl and tapping her foot on the ground.
"What are you doing here?" I rubbed my eyes.
"Here? You mean in my own home?" Then, with a huff, she yanked the duvet from me.
I looked around the room and immediately recognized it as, well, not my hotel room, but rather the room I occasionally found myself waking up in recently. Maybe too often? And then I remembered how, the previous night, barely able to make two steps without losing my balance, I'd judged it better to come back here instead of returning to my hotel that seemed so far.
"Oh." I sighed and balanced my feet over the edge. "Sorry, I'm leaving." 
"No. We're leaving, together. I made a reservation. Come on."
The simple thought of ingesting food made my stomach lurch and I leaned forward. "I'm not sure I can eat right now. How about we go tomorrow?" 
"No, today. It has to be done before I get too busy. Which is any day now." She carefully folded the duvet as she spoke, her eyes never leaving me. 
I frowned and rubbed my stomach in an attempt to keep down whatever I'd eaten last night. "What has to be done?"
It was too early in the morning for me to entirely focus on what she was saying, but the urgency in her tone was slightly worrying. 
"This." She pointed her finger at the bed and me. "This has got to stop, Addie." 
My shoulders slumped, and a hint of guilt settled in my belly. "You'll have to be more precise with your demands." 
"You, showing up at all hours of the day or night, halfway out of your mind. My door is always open, but you can't keep showing up here not knowing your own damn name. The baby will be here soon, and I can't have you doing this all the time anymore." 
I pursed my lips and realized I might have been slightly higher than I'd thought last night. "I'm sorry." 
She sighed and sat down next to me, folding her hands on her lap. "I'm really worried for you, honey." 
I chewed on my lip and looked down at my own pale hands. "You don't have to be." My voice was barely above a whisper, and I knew I'd pushed it too far. 
"Well, that's too bad, I can't help it." She gave me a comforting smile and squeezed my hand. "Just don't let me deal with two kids at once. Now come on, get up."