Chapter 24

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"Hun, I'm home," Petunia called out, kicking her outside shoes off at the door, then stepping into her house slippers. She dropped her bags onto the kitchen counter, then immediately moved to the kitchen sink. The dishes had already been done. She removed her disposable, vinyl gloves, threw them into the trash– which had been recently emptied– then washed her hands. Then, she washed them again.

"I brought takeout, and some leftovers from the bakery," she called to her husband over the running water.

Handy was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, watching a show he'd promised his wife he wouldn't start without her. As soon as he heard Petunia's keys in the front door, he switched off the TV. Handy used his toe to press the OFF button on the remote— he'd gotten very skilled with his feet, moreso than the average person at least.

He was a bilateral amputee; both of his arms were amputated at the elbows after a freak accident at work had left him in a coma for weeks. Petunia nursed him back to health, kept up his morale, supported him while he learned to use his feet for some things, and his stubs for others. For Christmas, she converted their entire house into a smart home. With just his voice, Handy could turn lights on and off, lock doors, open blinds, start the coffee maker, and even create shopping lists on his phone and send them to their printer. Sure, that particular Christmas was funded entirely by part of the settlement money he'd won after the accident– but it was the best damned Christmas Handy had ever had. And it was all thanks to Petunia. 

After the accident, it was hard for Handy to feel dignified. He couldn't eat, shit, or shower on his own. It was hard for him to feel fully his own person, worthy of love or respect. But Petunia never gave up on him. She didn't allow him to sulk or sink deeper into his depression. She helped him regain his independence, and never once saw him as less of a person. Because he wasn't. These days, Handy was fully self-sufficient. He could do most things on his own. However, he and Petunia still enjoyed daily showers together— not by necessity, but by choice. It was a routine that started after Handy's surgery, but soon it became their oasis. Here they felt the closest and most intimate.

It was the only place Petunia felt clean enough to have sex. After the curse, she couldn't stand the saliva that came from their heavy make-out sessions. The several fluids involved in lovemaking were no longer sensual and erotic– they were gross and disgusting. She hated sex, and she hated hating sex. She missed enjoying her partner's body, she wanted to crave his body as much as she had craved it before the curse. The shower was the perfect escape. Under clear, running water, sex was no longer dirty. It was cathartic, carnal. Besides, Handy suspected Petunia felt better if she was the one to clean him before and after sex. He laughed, it was a harmless quirk. Mostly.

"You're kidding," he called back to her in the kitchen.

"I'm not," Petunia walked into the living room smiling her usual smile after the kitchen had met her cleanliness expectations, "I got Thai! And cheese danishes from the bakery–" Petunia's eyes landed on the coffee table in front of Handy, a giant half pepperoni, half cheese pizza staring her right in the face.

"I got takeout too," he looked at her. She looked at him.

They laughed at the same time.

"Handy! You should've told me," she giggled, walking over and setting her takeout bags on the coffee table next to the pizza.

"I wanted to surprise you!"

"With pizza?" She raised her eyebrow, giving him an incredulous look. Pizza, although a former favorite, had quickly sunk to the bottom of Petunia's go-to foods. As had most finger foods. It was greasy and messy, and the only way she could eat it now was with a knife and fork.

"Hey, I dabbed the oil off with a napkin just like you taught me," he defended, giving her an infamously coy grin. There was a plastic knife and plastic fork next to the pizza box, which Handy had set out specially for Petunia. There was a wine bottle and two chilled glasses. How could she ever be mad at him?

Petunia shook her head and laughed. "Fine. But I'm still having my summer rolls... did you change your outside clothes before sitting on the couch?"

"Of course," he reached forward, resting his stumps on Petunia's hips. "But... if you're not feeling pizza, I know something else I'm craving," Handy smirked again, pulling Petunia into him. She lost her footing and landed squarely on his lap. She tried to push him away, laughing, but he held her there.

"Oh, stop it! I still have my outside clothes on," she giggled, Handy planted several dry kisses on her neck and jaw, on her shoulders and exposed collarbone. She finally freed herself and scrambled back to her feet. Handy chuckled and let her up, sinking back into the couch with his elbows spread out casually over the backrest.

Petunia straightened out the new wrinkles on her dress, turning around towards the stairs. Before sitting on any furniture, aside from the plastic chairs they'd bought for temporary guests, she had to change into inside clothes. And before she could change into inside clothes, she had to shower. She feigned a stern look "And don't think I didn't hear the TV earlier. You're in big trouble."

"Guilty," he acquiesced. "But listen, hun..."

"Yeah?" Petunia turned to him.

"I know you've said to drop it, but it's been on my mind all month."

"Babe..."

"I'm serious. What Sniffles did to you, it's not right."

"There's nothing we can do," Petunia looked down at her hands, they closed into fists. "Sheriff Lumpy was in on it."

"Yeah but... what about Splendid, isn't that his whole thing? Fucking up the bad guys?"

"He already did. When he found out, he beat him mercilessly. And the Sheriff too. But you know how it goes, they've come back to life."

"There has to be something we can do."

"Well, if Giggles would quit being such a selfish bitch we could break the curse and punish them for real."

Handy didn't say anything.

"I'm going to shower," Petunia said finally.

"Wait."

"What?" She snapped, growing slightly impatient.

"Hun... I love you, so much. More than you know. But you're wrong about this."

Petunia glared at him from across the room.

"Something just isn't right," he continued. "You have to help them find her."

"She doesn't want to be found," Petunia argued. "She doesn't deserve to be found! You know what she did to Flaky."

"I do. And... I know she's your best friend."

"Was."

Handy shook his head, sighed. "If not for her, then for everyone else. Like it or not, we need her."

"We don't need her," Petunia frowned, raising her voice. "Everyone we need is right here. You, me. And..." her voice trailed away, she wrapped a protective her arm around her stomach.

"We don't need her for anything," there were fresh tears in her eyes.

Handy stood up, walking over to his wife. He rested the inside of his elbows on her waist, pulled her into him. Petunia held back a sob, burying her face into his neck.

"I know my love, I know," he planted a kiss on the top of her head. "But without Giggles, we can't meet him or her. And I want to, just as much as you."

Petunia didn't say anything. She blinked away her tears, but stayed buried in his body; her chest against his chest, her face against his neck.

She knew he was right, but in this moment she just wanted to be held. Shower be damned. 

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