It looked like a dryer threw up in the place. That familiar tension that seemed to be with him lately settled on his shoulders and the back of his neck. He forced a smile and tried to rotate his neck and shoulders to shake it off.
Caress was lying in the middle of the unmade bed on her back with her knees bent and her arms crossed over her shoulders. She shifted her arm just enough to look over at him with one eye. “Is that for me?” she asked.
Julius was too busy wondering how on earth anyone could be comfortable in a room where there wasn’t one neat spot to sit. He nodded as he fought the urge to treat her like a teenager who needed to be ordered to straighten her room.
A vision of his baby sitting and waving atop a pile of clothes in the crib flashed before him.
In order to reach the bed, he kicked a path in the clothes littering the floor. “Caress, listen, I can’t hold my tongue any longer,” he said, using a hand to make enough room on the bed to set down the tray.
“Yes, Julius?” she said, sitting up to position the tray in front of her.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. And then finally closed it for good. “Nothing. Nothing at all,” he said, turning to leave the room with one last shove of a stack of magazines from his path before he closed the bedroom door.
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