table in front of me. Then, he pours himself a cup, taking it black.
Once he’s done, he sits in the chair across from me. “She sleeps better when you read to her.”
This is true and part of the reason I offered to do it today. When her pain is bad, she has trouble getting comfortable enough to sleep. Anything that I can do to help her get some rest, I’ll do.
When I don’t reply, he keeps speaking, “You need to prepare yourself for the worst.”
We’ve been in worst case mode for the last couple of months so the fact that he’d make a point to say this is not great news.
“You think it’ll be soon?” I ask.
He holds my gaze, and nods.
I gulp. “How soon?”
At this he looks away, his eyes to the hall that leads toward the den. That in itself is an answer. Shit.
“I’ll pack a bag,” I reply.
Mom had one request for her final days, that Dad and I be close. Sure, my apartment isn’t far, but Dad and I decided that once it looked like the end was near, that I’d stay in my old room until she died.
Neither of us say anything after that. Conversation seems pointless.
My phone buzzes, breaking the silence. “Is it all right if I take this?” I ask, after glancing at the screen and seeing a number I don’t recognize there.
My dad nods but stays where he is.
I touch the green circle and lift my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Heathcliff?”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere; it’s Gigi Fairlane, and she has never called me.
That isn’t the only reason the sound of her voice causes my heart to thump violently in my chest. No, it’s the fear I hear in her voice.
Coffee splashes over the rim of my mug as I forcefully push away from the table and stand. “Gigi, what’s wrong?”
“Sydney is at our cabin up in the canyon. There’s no cell service there and we haven’t been able to get a hold of her. With all the rain, they’re evacuating everyone because of mudslides. We can’t reach her. I should have told you where she was this morning but I didn’t want to upset her.”
My eyes move to the window over the sink and I stare unseeingly out at the rain. “What’s the address of your cabin?”
The rain lulled me to sleep. The taps of it off the roof were the perfect white noise as I slept. For the first day in a long time, I wake refreshed.
This cabin is magical like that; I’ve always had the best sleep here. It has to be all in my head, the effect unplugging has on my stress level.
The rain sounds heavier. I smile, imagining it’s washing all of my troubles away. Turning my head to look out the circular window to watch it. If I could bottle up the Zen I’m feeling, I’d bring a case of it back to Ferncliff.
It’s not until my bladder demands emptying that I finally get up and climb down the ladder from the loft. Once I’m ready to face the day, I take a mug of coffee and sit on the porch.
Heath is still on my mind. What am I going to do about him?
Pros: My heart beats faster whenever he’s near; he made me laugh; we could talk about anything; his body is incredible and he knows exactly what to do with it; he knows what he wants out of life.
Cons: it wasn’t me; I’m into him more than he’s into me; I’m not his type; he’s probably just slumming with me, or maybe I’m a phase he wants to try; I thought we were on the same page when we were together, and most important, he is going to break my heart.
The smart thing would be to stay away from him. It sucks that he makes that so hard. You don’t see me hanging out at his job. If I could ban him from Lola’s, I’d consider it.
So, the choice seems obvious. Heath Mackey burned me once, I’d be an idiot if I went back for seconds.
It’s common sense. Why can’t I mentally commit to it?
My hopes and fears are pulling me in different directions.
There is so much potential in Heath Mackey. What I don’t know and can’t predict is if that potential is good or bad. Tennyson said it is “better
Once he’s done, he sits in the chair across from me. “She sleeps better when you read to her.”
This is true and part of the reason I offered to do it today. When her pain is bad, she has trouble getting comfortable enough to sleep. Anything that I can do to help her get some rest, I’ll do.
When I don’t reply, he keeps speaking, “You need to prepare yourself for the worst.”
We’ve been in worst case mode for the last couple of months so the fact that he’d make a point to say this is not great news.
“You think it’ll be soon?” I ask.
He holds my gaze, and nods.
I gulp. “How soon?”
At this he looks away, his eyes to the hall that leads toward the den. That in itself is an answer. Shit.
“I’ll pack a bag,” I reply.
Mom had one request for her final days, that Dad and I be close. Sure, my apartment isn’t far, but Dad and I decided that once it looked like the end was near, that I’d stay in my old room until she died.
Neither of us say anything after that. Conversation seems pointless.
My phone buzzes, breaking the silence. “Is it all right if I take this?” I ask, after glancing at the screen and seeing a number I don’t recognize there.
My dad nods but stays where he is.
I touch the green circle and lift my phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Heathcliff?”
I’d recognize that voice anywhere; it’s Gigi Fairlane, and she has never called me.
That isn’t the only reason the sound of her voice causes my heart to thump violently in my chest. No, it’s the fear I hear in her voice.
Coffee splashes over the rim of my mug as I forcefully push away from the table and stand. “Gigi, what’s wrong?”
“Sydney is at our cabin up in the canyon. There’s no cell service there and we haven’t been able to get a hold of her. With all the rain, they’re evacuating everyone because of mudslides. We can’t reach her. I should have told you where she was this morning but I didn’t want to upset her.”
My eyes move to the window over the sink and I stare unseeingly out at the rain. “What’s the address of your cabin?”
The rain lulled me to sleep. The taps of it off the roof were the perfect white noise as I slept. For the first day in a long time, I wake refreshed.
This cabin is magical like that; I’ve always had the best sleep here. It has to be all in my head, the effect unplugging has on my stress level.
The rain sounds heavier. I smile, imagining it’s washing all of my troubles away. Turning my head to look out the circular window to watch it. If I could bottle up the Zen I’m feeling, I’d bring a case of it back to Ferncliff.
It’s not until my bladder demands emptying that I finally get up and climb down the ladder from the loft. Once I’m ready to face the day, I take a mug of coffee and sit on the porch.
Heath is still on my mind. What am I going to do about him?
Pros: My heart beats faster whenever he’s near; he made me laugh; we could talk about anything; his body is incredible and he knows exactly what to do with it; he knows what he wants out of life.
Cons: it wasn’t me; I’m into him more than he’s into me; I’m not his type; he’s probably just slumming with me, or maybe I’m a phase he wants to try; I thought we were on the same page when we were together, and most important, he is going to break my heart.
The smart thing would be to stay away from him. It sucks that he makes that so hard. You don’t see me hanging out at his job. If I could ban him from Lola’s, I’d consider it.
So, the choice seems obvious. Heath Mackey burned me once, I’d be an idiot if I went back for seconds.
It’s common sense. Why can’t I mentally commit to it?
My hopes and fears are pulling me in different directions.
There is so much potential in Heath Mackey. What I don’t know and can’t predict is if that potential is good or bad. Tennyson said it is “better
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