Terry and Gene 17

Terry looked up to smile at the customer who entered the gallery, but when she recognized him, her smile faded and a familiar ache gripped her chest.

"Hi Jason," she said quietly.

Jason smiled at her. "Terry," he nodded. "You look beautiful, as always."

Despite herself, Terry felt her cheeks glowing as Jason leaned on the counter, resting his elbows on it and folding his hands.

He looked freshly showered and shaven. His long, black hair was pulled into a ponytail. He wore a white oxford shirt and jeans.

"How are you?" Terry asked.

"Oh, you know, getting along. You are absolutely glowing. Life treating you well?"

"Seems to be."

"As you deserve it to." Jason smiled at her.

Terry looked down at his hands. There appeared to be something wrapped around his wrists. As if she were in a daze, she reached for his right hand and held it while she unbuttoned his cuff and pushed his sleeve up. His forearm was wrapped in bandages from the wrist to the elbow. Grimly, she uncovered his left arm as well and found it in the same condition. She held both of his hands and stared down at his arms in disbelief. The tears were unbidden but they slid down her cheeks anyway.

"Why?" she whispered.

"I don't remember. They tell me I did it with the broken neck of a gin bottle." He laughed a little. "You know I love gin, but it doesn't love me."

"You just checked yourself out of the hospital." Terry stated.

"Yeah. Seemed like the thing to do."

"If you had stayed, they could have at least monitored you for infection." Terry sobbed, still holding his hands.

"No reason to stay. I don't have any feeling in my right hand. I can't paint."

"What? But won't it come back?"

Jason shrugged. "They said it might."

"Why do you do this?" Terry cried and squeezed his hands in hers.

The door opened. Terry bowed her head to hide her face, hoping the customer would go and look around. Instead, the footsteps came right up to the counter and stood there.