Chapter fifty three

The driver pulled up outside my home, it was going to be strange no D, no kids, and no Madison.  Getting out I slowly made my way to the front door, feeling the ledge I got the key and let myself in. My driver brought in my bags. "Where would you like these sir?"
"upstairs in the bedroom to the right please" he shook his head in acknowledgement and went upstairs; and placed my bags where I had asked.

I stood in the lobby looking round, it felt like forever since I had been home, and it was strange to me; it really felt like I was in someone else's house, it just did not feel like my own.
I figured it was due to the stress of Antonia and being away on tour, and I hoped; as I settled back in the feeling would pass.

The driver came downstairs and asked if there was anything else I needed before he left. I shook my head and let him leave.

With him gone I was totally alone, and struck by the silence of the house, the only sound to be heard was the clicking of the clock in the hall. I walked slowly into the kitchen, and started the coffee pot, I checked the refrigerator for milk, none. "Damn" I checked the cupboard for whitener and found some.

Waiting for the coffee, I sat on the stool and looked at the day outside, through the south facing window the sun was streaming through. it was warm on my skin and comforting, no doubt about it, it was a beautiful day out there.

I sat fidgeting on the stool, my body restless,  made worse by the fact, I knew I could not do much given the Docs instructions to rest, but; I could not procrastinate either. A light bulb flickered above my head; as I was tempted to walk the short distance to my studio.
For days I had a song hammering its tune around my head, and I knew I just had to write it down. As the coffee pot started bubbling, and I placed my cup under and waiting for the hot liquid to filter through into my cup, speaking aloud to myself, I reasoned... "but writing is relaxing... it's not like I'm gonna be playing a concert right?..." light bulb lit bright and mind made up and with coffee in hand I made my way out back and along the drive to the studio. It took some time, as when I forgot to move slow and sped up a little the pain halted me dead in my tracks, it took my breath too which made me re adjust and start again.

Reaching the studio,  I tapped in the code and opened the door, a musty smell filled my nostrils. The studio had been locked up for some months. but it didn't bother me at all, I loved it and inhaled the scent, now I felt like I was home.

Sitting at the desk, coffee in hand, and smiling, I started transferring the beat in my head to an audible track, Finally done, I sat back in my chair and on the final play back I was, at last satisfied with the work in progress. Time had no existence to me when I was focused, what kind of jogged my mind was the niggling pain in my side that had progressively increased in intensity as the day drew on. Closing up the studio for the day, I left and began the walk along the drive back to the main house. Taking slow baby steps I watched the sun slip and sink from the sky signalling the end to another day.
I thought about the time I had been in the studio, had I really been in there for eight hours?, smiling to myself I knew the answer.
Reaching the back door I walked back inside, switching the coffee pot back to on I put my cup under and waited for the coffee to filter through. In my back pocket I reached for the pills I had been given to help with the pain, popping two from the pack I got some water from the cooler and swallowed them down, secretly praying they would work instantly, but I knew it would be some time; grabbing my coffee I walked to the lounge and sat on the couch and flicked on the TV, trying hard to numb the pain that had gotten worse after the walk back to the house.
I looked at my watch, six thirty, my nurse should be here in half an hour to get me something to eat, before helping me to my room and into bed. Inside now with the pain I was regretting sitting at the desk all day, silently I scalded myself for being a fucked up dumbass, my thoughts halted as my phone was ringing in my pocket. I reached inside and answered,
 "Yo"
"Hey so how first day back at home?"
"Good"
"so you see the news today?"
"erm, no, I've been kinda pre occupied, why, what I miss?"
"Antonia"
"What about her?"
"She's awake?"
"Shit, how you know?"
"The news man, they are at the hospital, they know who she is right, some reporter got inside and spoke to her, man she has no recollection of who the fuck you are..."
"yeah right, and I'm president of the USA... that fucked up bitch is playing another fucking game."
"no really, the reporter spoke with the Doc, when she was brought in she had serious head injuries, part of her brain has stopped working, it will never recover... can't remember what he actually said, but that's the gist."
Part of me wanted to believe Rich, but another half of me knew somehow the bitch would find her way back, I was not out of the woods yet.