Read Online The Do-Over by Kathy Dunnehoff - Free Book Online Page A

vampire eyeballs were as gritty, as tired and dry, as hers were. She’d read for so many hours, she’d lost track of a day. It had grown dark and then light again, if her squinty eyes were accurately perceiving the early morning sun. She automatically turned her wrist to check the time and remembered she’d taken her watch off. It lay face down on the coffee table trunk, its little silver hands going unheeded. She’d leave it there as long as she could and enjoy what was already the most relaxing time of her life. She’d really escaped into the books, not just sipped them when she could steal a minute. She’d lived vicariously and enjoyed the supernatural lives, the dangerous lives, even the steamy ones. 
    She rose, stretched, then kicked out at the pizza box just because she’d seen guys on TV ads kick at their pizza boxes, and it might be her only chance to do it. She saw the tea pot and empty mug on the trunk and wished she’d thought ahead and had a beer so an empty bottle could roll under the couch and make that great TV ad clinking sound too.
    She’d go to bed, even though it was morning and the rule was to rise in the morning, and she’d sleep. She’d sleep for as long as her eyes needed to heal. Then she’d… she’d do whatever the hell she wanted.
     
    Afternoon sun lit up the loft, and there was no alarm clock to tell her to get out of bed and no one who needed her to help them get out of theirs. No one even to buy facial tissues for. She rolled over, and it felt amazing, so she rolled back and over again. She spread out in the middle of the bed and moved her arms and legs up and down, a snow angel in the cotton. She thought of her day planner, the family calendar, the answering machine, all back home, all out of reach, all unable to reach her.
    Her stomach growled, and she patted it. Her appetites, and her appetites only asked to be fed. She sat up to speak directly to her belly button. “What do you want? What do you want? Whatever it is, let’s go get it.” Her stomach growled again. “Heavy Italian for brunch? An excellent choice.”
    She rose and headed for the shower with the intention of staying in it until she’d drained the hot water tank.
     
    She’d planned to get dressed but then Three Dog Night came on the radio, and she’d had to dance. She turned up the music so loud, the little boom box buzzed on the trunk, but Jeremiah was a bullfrog, and he deserved some attention. She spun around the room, enjoyed the feel of her body, both strong and jiggly, a combination she’d not appreciated before. She sang along and felt the desire to throw away cars, bars, and wars just like the song suggested. And then she’d take their advice and do nothing but make love in the world. Music needed more of that kind of sweet optimism.
    The pounding at the door made her jump, but she kept dancing as she scooped up her towel, wrapped it around her, and made her way across the room to open the door to Dan. Dan, who looked like he’d spent the night at the bottom of a hamper fully dressed and without any access to water, soap, light, or maybe oxygen.
    He swayed in the doorway. “Were you singing in there wearing that towel?”
    “No.” She shook her head. He needed food. He always got shaky if he didn’t eat regularly. “I was singing in here wearing nothing.”
    He blinked but seemed to have a hard time tracking, so in a flash of guilt, she decided to take him for Italian before she sent him home. She pulled him into the loft by his collar, shut the door, and leaned him up against it. “I was dancing. It’s Three Dog Night. Remember? It’s on The Big Chill soundtrack.”
    Dan closed his eyes for a moment as if in concentration. “They only needed a weekend.”
    She stopped on her way to her clothes. “What?”
    He opened his eyes and shook his head. “In The Big Chill they had a weekend away from their regular lives. They only needed a weekend.”
    It had been a weekend. The whole movie, the