Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 507(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
When Clay called late last night to check on Summer, he updated me that Eileen Martin had gotten ahold of my number. From the number of calls I’ve received in the last few hours alone, I’m pretty sure she’s passed it around to the whole damn town.
I appreciate that Red Bridge is a tight-knit community, and there’s not a single member of it who doesn’t care, but I can’t talk to one more person without losing it.
She slides my phone into the pocket of her jean shorts. “You got it.”
“I, uh, also, tried to call my sister Breezy last night, but she sets her shit to do not disturb at night. Can you let me know if she calls?”
“Of course I can, Ben.”
I nod, trying to find the words, but I’ll admit, I don’t have a whole lot of organized crap in my head at the moment.
“Daddy?” I hear called faintly, jolting me into awareness. I move back into the room without delay, finding Summer awake and blinking hard in her bed.
“Hey, Summblebee,” I greet, trying to keep my voice from shaking and failing miserably. “How are you feeling? You gave us a big scare yesterday.”
“A little sick.” There’s a small pause, and then her eyes flicker with a tiny light. “Does that mean we can get ice cream?”
I chuckle, but a deep pain is rooted in the base of it. “They usually do the ice cream thing for getting tonsils out. But yeah, I don’t see why we can’t get some ice cream.”
“Yay!” she cries with half the strength she normally does. Her gaze lifts slightly, and then she cheers at full strength. “Norah! You’re here!”
I turn to look over my shoulder, and Norah steps closer, looking to me for permission before coming all the way. I nod, a dark cloud settling over my conscience for the way I’ve treated her since she arrived in Red Bridge. All her apologies and consideration and treading lightly, even after everything she’s been through—that’s what makes her special. And all I did was mock her for it.
I have no fucking clue how she can stand me.
“I love your shirt!” Summer tells her excitedly as Norah sits down on the bed beside her.
“I hoped you would! I wore it just for you.”
“You did?”
“Uh-huh. And I also brought the new People magazine for us to flip through. You’re never going to believe the newest drama with the Housewives.”
Summer laughs. “Beverly Hills or Atlanta?”
Norah scoffs. “Pssh. What do you think?”
My phone starts ringing in Norah’s pocket, and she pulls it out to check the screen. When she turns to me, I know who it is immediately.
I reach for the phone from her and signal that I’m going to step out into the hall as I answer, “Hey, Breezy.”
“Dear brother. I sure hope you have a good reason for calling me in the middle of the night—”
“Breeze, it’s Summer,” I cut her off, stopping her before she can say something she’ll regret. Her tone changes in an instant.
“What? What happened, Ben?” she asks, her voice a ghost of its usual domineering tone.
“She had a respiratory episode yesterday. She turned blue, Breeze, because of the deterioration around her lungs. There’s no support there anymore, and it’s getting harder and harder for her to breathe. We’re in Burlington now. Dr. Brock is supposed to be here shortly to go over where we are.”
“Oh, Ben. I’m so sorry.”
I choke on emotion and have to clear my throat to continue talking. “What am I gonna do, Breezy? How am I gonna—”
“You’re going to take it one thing at a time, Ben. Spend time with your little girl and soak her in while you can. I’m going to get everything sorted here in the next few days, and then I’m going to come up there and help you in any way I can.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t have to, but it’s what family does. Not our family because they’re all fucked up, but you and I, Ben, we’re real family. And I’ll be there. I just need a few days to get things covered here.”
“Thanks, Breeze,” I say and start to head back toward Summer’s hospital room.
“Do you feel like hearing some good news?” she asks, and I can tell by the firm tone of her voice she’s switched the conversation to business.
Normally, I’d tell her to fuck off with the shoptalk, but when I peek open Summer’s hospital room door and find her and Norah looking at a magazine, I decide a little good of anything right now wouldn’t hurt. “Sure.”
“I have twenty buyers for your painting,” she updates as I gently close Summer’s door again and lean my back against the wall of the hallway. “And it’s only twenty because I’ve only told twenty clients about it.”