Page 26 of Fragile hearts

He nods, climbing into the fire truck, calling out one more thing before climbing in. “Don’t forget to text!”

It takes me a while to walk home. I had no energy to run. The blazing sun and my trembling legs made the journey twice as long as before.

I grab my phone and the sticky little note when I lay down on my bed. I copy the number into my phone and sent him a text.

Alexis: I’m home. Good luck at work today. :)

He replies within minutes.

Carson: Thank you for letting me know. Take some rest.

Alexis: Aye aye, Captain.

Carson: What is your favorite dessert?

Alexis: Strawberry ice cream, why?

Carson: I’ll pick some up on the way home.

I’m already texting him that he doesn’t have to when another message pops up.

Carson: Don’t say that I don’t have to, I’m doing it anyway.

Alexis: Thank you, I’ll see you tonight.

Carson: See ya, Sunshine.

I don’t normally sleep during the day. But with the restless night I had and the event that happened this morning, I really needed it. I crashed the moment my head hit the pillow and woke up hours later with a dry mouth and such bad leg cramps that it took me over an hour to get showered and dressed.

I went to the store when I had regained some energy for some necessities and dinner for tonight. Grateful that I could take my car and didn’t have to walk anymore. I’m sitting at the dinner table, ignoring the pile of dishes that’s staring at me, begging me to clean them. My notepad is in front of me. I’m working on a portrait for a family who lost their newborn son. They never had the chance to get a family picture.

So I’m adding him to an already existing photograph, so their family is complete.

I’m almost done when the doorbell rings. I groan, grabbing my phone from my back pocket. I filter through the feed of the doorbell camera that I’d installed today.

Luckily, I didn’t need a hammer for that. I lower my head in embarrassment, thinking back to yesterday. I’m the only person who would use a shoe as a hammer. It was the only thing I had, and I didn’t want to bother Carson. We had finished the lounge chair in no time. Well, he built it, and I sat next to him pretending to be a good help.

I open the front door, greeting the familiar face.

“Hi, Neighbor.”

“Evening, Sunshine. I got the ice cream you wanted,” Carson says, holding my favorite type of dessert in one hand. He’s wearing the same baseball cap he wore the first time I met him, holding a neatly wrapped present in his other hand. I usher him inside, the blanket and pillow I had grabbed for him already lying on the edge of the couch.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask. He shakes his head as we near the dining table where my notepad lies.

He stares at it intently. “Did you draw this?”

I nod, grabbing a glass of water for myself.

“Yeah, it’s my job.” His mouth drops open as his stare flits between me and the drawing.

“Alexis, this is beautiful.” I place my glass on the counter, joining him at the table.

“This—wow, the attention to detail is astounding.”

“Thank you, I’m a memorial portrait artist. I add people’s deceased loved ones into portraits. Some have never had the chance to do that so that they will send me a picture, and I will add them into the portrait.”

“It’s really beautiful that you’re able to help people like that.”