Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Yesterday you were needed because I hadn't been prepared for her illness, today I am, so you can leave me to it. I will see that she's well taken care of."
There was nothing I could say except to follow them back and forth with my head like I would at a tennis match.
Who was this guy, my pseudo boyfriend of sorts...well...whatever he was. Who was he really that he spoke to a man twice his age with such an authoritative air?
And why was my father even listening to him? I fell asleep again while the two of them argued back and forth and when next I awakened, Thorn was sitting next to my bed reading a book.
"Good you're awake, time for your special tea." Spooky, I hadn't even twitched, but still he knew the moment I was awake.
He sat next to me and pulled me up against his chest, his movements gentle and precise; and holding a cup to my lips, fed me his special brew.
Now I know where the nutmeg went, there was orange and apples and some of everything it seemed in the cup. "It's my babushka's remedy for everything.”
“Babushka, what's that?”
“It's the language of my people, our people. It means grandma.”
“My people? My people are American." He didn't answer me and I looked up at him questioningly. "Well aren't they?”
“There's nothing for you to worry about malenkaya." I wanted him to talk, but his words just leave me with more questions than answers. "Soon you will have all the answers, but it is not the time, for now you rest yes?”
“What was that you called me before? I liked it.”
“Malenkaya, it means little one." I settled closer to him as he fed me the tea at little intervals. "When you are finished we will take you for a walk, a little fresh air will be good for your condition.”
“My condition, what's my condition exactly?”
“You have a strain of...the flu that is all, nothing I can't fix in a day or two, plenty of fluids and rest.”
“What about school, aren't you going to get into trouble? You’ve already missed so much as it is.”
“No, now stop fishing for information and put your head down and rest. Would you like me to read to you from one of your books?" He reached over and took up my almost destroyed copy of Anna Karenina from the pile.
"How did you...? Never mind." I just did as I was told and put my head back down while he read softly to me, stopping every now and then to kiss my hair and pull me up higher on his chest as I seemed to keep sliding.
His voice was lulling me into a dream state where all that existed was here and now, him and I cocooned in a little bubble where no one and nothing else could trespass.
But this was better than my dreams. Here, like this, I could feel the beating of his heart against me and inhale his scent that seemed to convey so much more to my hungry heart.
There was something of the familiar in his touch, in the way he held me so protectively. My name on his lips was like balm to my soul.
In his arms I felt at peace, whole, safe; all the things I never had before. He whispered to me softly, even when there was no need to.
His words stirred something in me. He could’ve been talking about the weather and I think I would’ve reacted the same. It was the timbre in his voice; it seemed to brush up against something in my heart and soul.
“You have beautiful hair little Jasmine.” There, right there. It was the way he said my name, the familiarity of it sent my mind on an expedition. Something was tickling the edges of my mind, but something else was holding me back.
It was as if I were afraid to remember. Was it one of the dreams from before? Is that why it seemed so familiar? But why would I be afraid of a dream? Silly question Jazz, your dreams become real.
“You must not worry over much Jasmine, all will be well, you will see.” That was another thing about Thorn; he always seemed to know what was going on with me. As if he could see into me, like we were connected somehow; fanciful much Jazz?
I held on tighter, somehow his assurance having the opposite effect. Why did I feel like there was something pending? There was an unbearable underlying feeling of sadness.
“Thorn?”
“Yes Milaya.” He kissed my brow and drew me in closer and just like that it was gone. The fear, the worry, the doubt! I snuggled as close as I could get, “nothing.” It was enough that he was there.
***
I slept on and off all day and was spoon fed liquids each time I awakened. He was always there when I opened my eyes, never too far away.