Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
"Thanks for this," I told him, meaning it, as I took a long, sip of the best coffee in town, moving to sit on the bed, and he joined me, spreading out the food, holding up the ketchup packet with a question in his eye.
"Duh," I said with an eye roll, snatching it away from him, nipping the corner, and spreading it on my food, then reaching for the salt as well. "Stop silently judging me," I commanded, feeling his eyes on me as he simply bit into his as-is.
"Watched you put ketchup on breakfast potatoes, love. I don't think anything is going to shock me now."
"No? Wait til you see what I put on mac & cheese," I said, smiling as I lifted my sandwich. "Hint, it is a red condiment."
"Lenny, that's just wrong," he declared, shaking his head at me.
And it was light.
It was easy.
It took no effort to enjoy breakfast with him, to small talk, to just be a normal fucking human being for a little bit.
I liked it.
I liked it more than I should have, more than was likely healthy so soon.
But I wasn't going to over-think it and spoil it.
In fact, I was excited to finally tell my sister about him.
At first, I thought it was weird to talk to her unconscious body. Aside from just begging her to wake up, that is. It felt awkward even when the nurses insisted many patients woke up and could remember hearing the voices of loved ones. And after overhearing nearly every other patient in the ward get talked to like they were awake by close family members, I started doing it too.
I told her about the crazy shit the men at Meryl's said.
I told her about the gym, about the instructors I had.
I bitched about the news.
Anything really.
Just pretending like it was one of our coffee dates and we were just catching up.
So far, I hadn't told her about Edison. Not even about taking a class with him. I actually wasn't sure why I didn't. Maybe because it was such huge thing. It felt weird to tell her when her eyes couldn't go huge, when she couldn't reach across the table, slam her hand on my shoulder and demand Shut up!
I guess because this was such a big thing for me, I selfishly wanted to have her reaction.
But, at the same time, I was bursting with the need of someone to talk to, to tell about the situation.
So I was giddy inside as the elevator doors opened and I moved down the hall.
Where I froze.
Because my mother was standing in front of the nurse's station.
She was a shadow of her former self, plastic surgery somehow managing to make her age worse than if she just let nature take its course, making her skin too tight in some places, too saggy in others. Her hair was dyed almost white-blonde, making her tan skin look ridiculous.
Normally, I would just roll my eyes at her outfit choices, but seeing as we were in a hospital, her skintight pink dress and sky-high stilettos were especially absurd.
Ugh.
Way to kill a good mood.
Thankfully, she had avoided coming to visit often, only doing so right after Letha was brought in and then on her birthday.
I was pretty sure I couldn't handle more than that.
"Mother," I said, voice chilly as I sent a head-shake at the nurses.
"Lenore," she said, eyes dipping over my outfit distastefully.
"What are you doing here?"
Her chin lifted at that, her eyes steely.
"You were never going to make the decision."
No.
"I agreed to six months. It came and went."
Nononono.
My eyes went from her to the nurse, eyes pleading.
And her words came out, stealing the air from my lungs.
"Letha was taken off life support. She died at seven-twenty this morning."
And just like that, my entire world collapsed around me.
ELEVEN
Lenny
No.
Nonononononono.
I couldn't quite process any thought.
I couldn't fucking think at all.
I charged past my mother into my sister's room, ripping the privacy curtain to the side.
And finding an empty bed.
Oh, God.
This couldn't be happening.
This couldn't...
"You said six months. Six months passed."
"Three fucking days ago!" I screamed. Yes, screamed. Top of my lungs, likely startling everyone on the floor.
"You're being dramatic, Lenore. She was dead the day they brought her in. You just kept her alive because you wanted to."
"You selfish bitch!" I yelled, hand going to my chest that felt like a swirling black hole, sucking everything inside, creating a deeper void. The tears stung at the back of my eyes, horrifying even in my despair. "I didn't get to say good... I didn't get to say anything."
God.
I couldn't breathe.
I couldn't...
"Lenny, please," the nurse tried, putting a hand at my shoulder, trying to offer comfort.
I lurched away, not knowing what I was doing, where I was going, but flying out of there, then down the stairs, not wanting to be stuck in an elevator while I shattered into a million little pieces.