Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“Who doesn’t like pasta?”
Zach grins. “Grab the jar of sauce from the pantry.”
And that’s it … that’s all it takes for me to fit into their life.
CHAPTER NINE
Over the next few weeks, I clean my other clients’ homes, mow Zach and Suzie’s lawn, take a million photos, bribe Suzie to eat, and do whatever I can to free up every possible minute of Zach's time at home so he can spend it with Suzie.
Again, she cycles through good days and bad days. A lot of bad days. I haven’t seen a good day in quite a while. It’s wearing on Zach.
His anxiety.
His demeanor.
His entire existence seems to fade along with her.
I don’t know what to do. Maybe there’s nothing I can do.
There’s a heavy cloud of suffering in the house that’s felt by everyone.
When I arrive home on a Wednesday, just after four o’clock, I’m a little surprised to see Zach's car instead of Michelle’s. He told me this morning that he would be home late, his last day working because he can’t be away from Suzie right now, not when she’s deteriorating so quickly. The house is silent. Too silent. It’s more of a chill in the air than a lack of sound that slows my steps.
Meow.
Harry Pawter runs toward me. I pick him up and kiss his head. “Hey, buddy,” I whisper. “Is everything okay?” After I set him back on the floor, I tiptoe down the hallway. Suzie’s sitting on the edge of her bed in a light blue nightgown, pale feet dangling, hands gripping the side, head bowed. It’s the first time I’ve seen her sitting up in days.
“Hi.”
Her head lifts slowly.
“What’s wrong?” I pad my way to her and kneel on the floor, resting my hands over hers as she stares at me with teary, red eyes.
“I can’t eat,” she says in a raspy voice.
“What do you mean? You’re not hungry?”
“Nothing will stay down.”
She must be less than a hundred pounds.
Protruding bones.
Scaly skin.
Cracked lips.
Her sunken eyes have lost every ounce of shine. Suzie has lifeless eyes.
“Okay … well, have you tried a smoothie?”
“Em …”
“Maybe some fresh squeezed juice?”
“Em …”
“Or—”
“Emersyn.”
I stop and bow my head, staring at her tiny legs hidden beneath her threadbare nightgown. “Where’s Zach?” I whisper.
“He left. He’s upset. Michelle wants him to call hospice,” she whispers.
I nod. “What can I do for you?”
She leans to the side, a painful moan escaping her chest as she grimaces. I help her lie down then cover her with a blanket.
“Find him.”
I nod again. “What do you want me to say to him?”
Closing her eyes, she tries to wet the dry craters covering her lips. “You’ll figure it out. You’ll …” her voice begins to fade as she drifts off to sleep. “You’ll … figure … him out.”
Beside the bed, there’s a tub of lip balm and a cup of swabs. I apply a little balm to her lips then kiss her cheek. I check every room for Zach. Then I check the garage. His bike is here, and his car is in the driveway. He wouldn’t go far. I know that much about him. Even if he’s upset, he wouldn’t leave her for long. That’s just not Zach.
Stepping out the patio door, I close it behind me and listen.
Nothing.
“Zach?”
Nothing.
I start to make my way to the side of the house.
“I’m here.”
Turning, I spot him sitting just around the corner of the garden shed. Knees pulled to his chest. Hands threaded in his hair, gripping it tightly.
As if any quick movement could scare him away, I tread lightly to the shed. Resting my back against the warm wood siding, I slide down and plant my butt next to him, pulling in my knees just like him. For many minutes, I simply exist beside him.
Waiting.
Searching.
Patiently welcoming any wise words into my mind.
I’ve got nothing.
“I’m scared out of my mind…” he pauses and swallows “…that I won’t be here when she dies.”
I nod slowly. Words are too inadequate. I now know why he’s home instead of working.
“I’m scared out of my mind … that I will be here when she dies.”
My heart is suffocating from his words squeezing it so tightly.
“So … the selfish asshole part of me just doesn’t want to be here. What if I just go first and wait for her?”
Oh, Zach …
I want to tell him that he would never have had any sort of life with her had she adopted the same mentality after Tara died. But I don’t. Zach isn’t asking for a pep talk. He’s asking for someone to listen to all the thoughts that are going through his head—the raw, honest part of his heart that needs to be set free so he can live, so he can be here with Suzie when she leaves this world. Like the ebb and flow of the ocean, the inhale and exhale of breath, life depends on the coexistence of holding on … and letting go. It’s how we navigate this life, mere children struggling to cross the monkey bars without falling.