Who Wouldn't Want To Be Me

I spent two weeks at the Sullivan’s house, the first one spent sleeping most of the time, and doing some light weight exercises with my arms as moving around was still pretty painful. The second week I was feeling better, going for a couple of walks with Shelly and the kids and babysitting a few times to that Steve and Shelly could go out. Three days after having the stitches out they decided I could manage all right back at my apartment with Becka. Steve dropped me off, carrying my bag up to my place for me and taking a look around. It hit me then that he’d never actually been to my place before.

“Want the grand tour?” I asked, and with a laugh he nodded. He could see both the kitchen and the living room, so I showed him the laundry room, bathroom, and the two bedrooms and half bath, which he seemed to approve of. There were a few things here and there he looked at, a few things he said he'd come and fix tomorrow just in case it became a problem. Steve even went so far as to check under the sink and make sure everything was working properly, although I assured him he didn't need to; we could always just call somebody in.

Steve replied with saying that he'd do the same for any of other his kids, and I gave him a hug as I felt myself tear up a little.

“Looks like you’ve got a real nice place here kiddo,” he grinned, standing up as I threw my bag into my room and shut the door. I’d worry about putting stuff away later, seeing as Shelly had insisted on washing all of my clothes for me.

“Thanks Steve,”

“No problem. Well, I guess I better head out. Now remember what the doctor said; no real training for another couple of days,” he said.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. I was getting frustrated with not being able to do much; a few light walks around the neighborhood, lifting some light weights, that sort of thing was all I’d been able to do.

“I’ll come by tomorrow and see how you’re doing, maybe we can head out to the gym and do a light workout or something,” he suggested, knowing how much I was hating my inability to work or play. I knew it was also his way of making sure I wasn't 'overworking' myself and actually listening to the doctor by not working out.

“That’d be good,” I agreed, eager to get back into the swing of things. I was still a little stiff, but walking and even some light jogging wasn’t causing me too much difficulty. Not that Steve or Shelly knew about my little attempt at jogging, but I couldn't handle not even trying to get back into total game shape.

“All right. Take care,” he pulled me into a hug, and mussed up my hair before leaving. Becka was at school, so I had to find a way to spend my afternoon. At Steve’s place the youngest boy had been at home all afternoon every day as his play-school was only in the mornings. So I’d had something to keep me occupied as long as I wanted to stay awake.
I had hardly sat down on the couch before the doorbell rang. I stood up slowly, not wanting to irritate my hip, before answering the door. I was surprised to see Jordan there, and it took me a moment to say anything.