Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“Oh, man,” I say, playing up my distress. “Not the same name as a chihuahua! That’s gonna be rough, because you know I can’t stop being silly.”
Mimi giggles as she reaches for the bag in my hands. “Let me try those pickle chips. I’m not scared.”
“We know that,” Elly says as I open the bag and pass it over, a soft, grateful look on her face that makes me even happier to have passed the Mimi test. “Bravest girl around. But should I go get you more water in your glass first from the fountain? They haven’t brought your juice yet, and you might need something to wash down that yuck.”
“Yum,” I counter seriously, playing along. “All that yum, you mean.”
“No, I’m good. I’m not thirsty yet.” Mimi pulls out a single pickle chip and pops it between her lips, her whole face transforming as the wonder of dill flavoring widens her horizons. “Oh my gosh, Mama, these are delicious! I love these darned things!”
“Okay, fine, I guess I’ll try one, too.” Elly pops a chip and immediately makes a “help me, Jesus, way too sour” face that’s so adorable I have to bite back a grin. “Oh, wow. That’s…pickle-y.”
“Right?” Mimi already has an entire handful on the way to her mouth. As she chews, she adds, “You did good, Gee.”
“Thanks, Meems,” I say, my grin widening.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, bug,” Elly says, but there’s no heat in her voice, and a beat later she’s kissing the top of Mimi’s head. “Let me walk Gee out, and I’ll go hunt down your juice, okay?”
“Okay,” Mimi says, her brow furrowing as she pulls out more chips. “But he doesn’t have to go if he doesn’t want to. There’s room for another chair, Mama. Some of the other kids have two people by their bed, I’ve seen them.”
Something warm and right blooms in my chest as Elly turns to me, and I nod.
“Okay, then,” Elly says. “I guess we should pull up a chair and get after these chips. They’re not going to eat themselves, and no way are you fitting all this in that tiny body of yours.”
“I might,” Mimi warns. “I’m really hungry. But I can still share.”
We spend another twenty minutes in their little shelter from the chaos of the rest of the department, having a chip picnic at the end of the bed while Mimi tells me about the comic book she’s writing.
“I’m making it all about swamp creatures who are also princesses and robbers and good guys and bad guys,” she explains after the nurse arrives with juice for all, a special treat Elly whispers means I’ve been accepted into the regulars’ club. “Only I can’t make very many words yet. So, I mostly draw the pictures, and when I’m done, I tell Mama what to write in the bubbles.”
“Smart,” I say, gesturing toward her with an electric orange triangle. “Outsourcing is the way to go. We can’t be expected to do everything all by ourselves.”
“I know! That’s what I tell Mama when she’s making me wait for writing time,” Mimi says, making Elly laugh and roll her eyes.
“Lord, help me,” she mutters. “With you two ganged up against me, I’ll never win.”
“Sure, you will,” I say, nudging her knee with mine. “I can have two new best friends at the same time. I’m good at multitasking.”
“Oh, sorry, Gee,” Mimi says, looking genuinely stricken for a beat, “but I can’t be best friends. Ruby from kindergarten is my best friend. We gave each other best friend bracelets and everything.” She sighs. “Only mine broke, so I have to wait until it gets fixed to wear it again.”
I nod and assure her, “No problems, Meems. We’ll just be good friends, then.” I glance Elly’s way, holding her gaze as I murmur, “Your mama and I’ll have to be best friends, instead, I guess.”
“I’ll take that under consideration,” Elly murmurs.
Finally, it’s time for me to leave. They both need to get some rest, and I’m starting to feel the late hour myself.
“See you soon, Mimi,” I say, holding out my fist for another bump.
“Okay,” she says, tapping her tiny knuckles to mine. “You should come over to our house for pizza, and I can show you my drawings. Mama makes really good frozen pizza. Way better than Nancy. But that’s probably because we have it a lot.”
Elly blushes. “You flatter me, child.” She ruffles Mimi’s hair. “Flatter me and shame me a little all at the same time, and that’s why I love you. Be right back, okay? When you’re done with the chips, remember to wipe your hands on the napkin, not your blanket, okay?”
“Okay,” Mimi says, then yawns. “I think I’m almost done. Now that my tummy is full, I’m starting to feel sleepy again.”
“Good. The more you can sleep and rest, the better the chances you’ll be stable enough for us to head home in the morning,” she says, following me out into the makeshift hallway between the two rows of triage rooms. As we make our way toward the big exit doors leading out of the emergency room, it’s relatively quiet aside from a little girl moaning softly from bay eight, who I hope feels better real soon.