Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Yeah, well, I’ve been on call the past two weekends and don’t see an end in sight.” The waitress sets down our drinks, we both take a healthy sip, and he continues on, “Two more weekends, and then I’ll be back to the normal schedule. Remind me next time not to trade favors with my partner. It always fuckin’ backfires.”
“Sucks, man. Wish I could help you, but I’m thinking what I know about a woman’s body and what you know about a woman’s body are two different things,” I grunt.
Luke laughs before taking a long pull of his drink. I do the same, and we sit in comfortable silence. He’s got his eyes on another area in the bar, probably doing similar to what I am, getting lost in a mindless game and zoning out.
“You eating here or at home?” he asks a few minutes later.
“Here. Definitely here.” I haven’t opened my refrigerator since well before I left to head to West Virginia, and truth be told, I’m not looking forward to cleaning out the fridge or the grocery shop I’ll need to do tomorrow.
“Same. I’m at the clinic or the hospital more than I am home. Once this shit is over, I’m going in hibernation, staying away from restaurants, fast food joints, and hospital food,” he states.
“I need to do the same, but not tonight.”
“I can drink to that.” He looks for the waitress to place our order, and my mind drifts off again, thinking about a woman, and not just any woman. A woman who’s been out of my life longer than she’s ever been in it. Fucking hell, maybe I should have stayed out of town a hell of lot longer than a couple of days. At least then, my mind wouldn’t be on my past.
2
LYRIC
It took me forever and a day to deal with everything Mom and Dad related. A last will and testament is well and fine until you have to file so many different documents and request extra copies of everything under the sun while simultaneously boxing up your life. A task I tried to deal with after Mom’s death and Dad’s diagnosis, only it confused him more than anything, making it come to a screeching halt. You’d have thought with as many times as my parents and I moved throughout the years, they’d have pared down a lot of furniture, décor items, and clothing. That couldn’t be further from the case. I would characterize their style as maximalist. Every wall had so much artwork, every cabinet was filled to the brim with pieces from traveling, and their closest were so full there’s no way either one of them could fit another article of clothing.
I’d slowly donated a few things here or there, mostly when Dad had a good day, and I wouldn’t remove anything he’d notice. It still didn’t put a dent in what I’d call the aftermath.
Naomi, who didn’t have to stay as long as she is, has truly helped out the most.
She’s a saint amongst us mere mortals.
She also said the first thing I should do is pick and choose what I’d want to keep for myself, then go through all of the personal items I wouldn’t want anyone to have. Then shred or burn documents before calling a company to hold an estate sale. As much as I’d have liked to stay while they held the event, Naomi advised against it, instead, we went and enjoyed a spa day, her treat. Where she opened up about the dates she’s been going on with Scott Bennett, my parents’ attorney. I crossed my fingers in hopes she’d fall madly in love with him, uproot her life, and move to the States.
Selfish, I know, but I’d love to have a piece of my mom here even though I’m now moving states away. Still, she’s well past due to find a happily ever after. Naomi has been single forever, well, besides having a few long-term boyfriends. She’s never had a husband, and she doesn’t have children. I remember once I hit the age of seventeen, she and my mom brought me into the fold, which meant there wasn’t a subject they held back on.
It's where I learned Naomi had been put through the wringer in her childhood, with a mom who never protected her from her predator of a father. I had to hold back my gasp and blink the tears away before she noticed. Where my childhood and my mother’s were normal, minus us moving around every so often, Naomi didn’t have the loving home every child deserves. Which is why my mom always said her best friend is worthy of all the happiness in the world, and now it’s me repeating those words to her.
“Ma chérie, did you make it?” Naomi asks through the speakers of my car. The trip from North Carolina to Florida could have taken me one day. Except I split it up in two days, mainly for the person on the other end of the line. She was worried I would overdo it, get too tired, and after all the loss we’ve suffered, an extra day didn’t bother me too much. Plus, it’s not like I’m on a time crunch or anything. There’s not a job I need to get to, only a house that has been sitting vacant for what Mr. Bennett says has been a year.