Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“You’re kidding,” she mutters when we step inside. I can’t tell if she’s glad to see us or what.
“We heard there was a patient in here who needs cheering up.” My head swings from side to side as I look around the otherwise quiet room with its empty chairs. “I guess that means you.”
She doesn’t look surprised. Not exactly happy, but not surprised. “Are we making this our thing now?” she asks, smirking up at us. “You just, like, showing up when you know I’m stuck in one place?”
“Come on.” Easton cranes his neck to look out into the hall, like he’s making sure nobody is paying attention. “We have to be here, anyway. They might make us empty out bedpans, otherwise.”
When she arches her eyebrow, I know what she’s going to say. “And I’m supposed to feel bad about that? I might start screaming at somebody to get you out of here.”
“You could use the company.” Like I did the night we found her, I sit close to where she’s sitting with her feet up. She looks small in her chair, almost swallowed up by the blanket. It’s not easy, but I have to remind myself how she hates feeling pitied.
Easton asks, “Are you always alone when you do this?”
“Yeah.” That’s a sore spot. I can tell from the way she lifts her shoulders a little. Defensive. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t mind having a little peace and quiet.”
In a hospital? Where there are people walking around all the time? “If that’s how you feel about it, we can leave you alone.” I even stand like I’m ready to go.
“I mean, you’re already here.” She waves a hand at the chair. “Sit. Keep me company, I guess.”
Like I was ever really going anywhere. Flopping back down, I ask, “Why isn’t your grandma here with you?”
Her lips pull together in a thin line across the bottom part of her face. “Why do you have to make it sound like it’s weird? It’s not like she doesn’t care.”
I’m sure she does care. I mean, we didn’t even spend an entire meal at the house, but it’s obvious she cares. “That’s why I asked, ’cause it seems like she cares so much. I figured she’d be here, making sure you’re all right.”
“Maybe she’s weirded out by hospitals,” Easton mutters.
“She’s definitely spent enough time in them, between me and Grandpa and herself.” I don’t know why she is so determined to keep everything locked inside. It’s like pulling teeth to get a simple answer. And even when she starts to explain, she speaks so slowly. Like she’s searching for every word.
“What’s wrong with Grandma Lois?” I ask. Am I a little sharp? Maybe. But she seems like a nice lady.
Emma almost smiles, but it doesn’t last long. “She had a mild stroke a couple of years ago. Not long after Grandpa died, actually. I really want her to take it easy as much as she can. I…” She gets an uncomfortable look on her face while she stares at her lap. “I need her, you know? She’s all I have now. So I want to take care of her.”
Easton looks at me. I look at him. Neither one of us knows what to say.
We’re not exactly in touch with our feelings. We don’t sit around discussing what’s going on in our heads or how things affect us day-to-day. Not beyond bitching over stuff that pisses us off, anyway.
But this is different territory. It’s uncomfortable. At the same time, I want to know. I want to hear about her life, even if all she can talk about is struggling. Not because I feel like getting off on her misery, either. I’m having a hard time remembering when I wanted that.
“And it’s just the two of you?” I ask. “Aunts, uncles? Cousins?”
She shakes her head slowly. “My mom was Grandma’s only child, and all of the extended family on that side lives all over the country. They came for my parents’ funerals, and for Grandpa’s. But those are the only times I’ve really seen them. And my dad’s family life wasn’t really good—he didn’t have a relationship with any of them. I don’t even know where they live or if any of them are still alive.”
Meanwhile, I’m sitting here with years worth of family holidays playing across my memory. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Ski trips, summers at the beach.
“And you said before that you came to live here because there were better treatment options, right?” Easton leans forward with his elbows on his knees, staring at her. Studying her. I know the feeling. Like I want to see inside her head. The more she lets us see, even little bits at a time, the more I want.
“Yeah. We lived in a pretty small town and the nearest hospital was far away. That made it really hard when she had the stroke, too. It would take me forever to get back and forth to visit, and sometimes, I would stay in a motel nearby, but it started to add up after a while.”