CHAPTER ONE
We brought Mom home at dawn on Monday. Today's Wednesday and she still hasn't woken up. She has one more day before the two month sentence the doctors passed on her is up. With each gasping breath she takes, each hour she doesn't wake, I have less hope that her end is not very near now. I sleep with my bedroom door open and the lights on.
A raspy gasp followed by horrific coughs rips through me and I'm at her bedside, wide awake. The fluorescent green numbers on the alarm clock read 5:46 AM, but it's as though I hadn't slept at all, even though I went to bed before eight last night.
I hold my mom's hand as her chest heaves upwards in her struggle to breathe. Tears are hot and thick on my cheeks, blinding me, but I make no sound, not even a whimper; let alone a sob. I don't know who's shaking harder, her or me.
Dad comes in and lifts me off the bed so Edna can adjust Mom's IV. The coughs stop, but Mom is still gasping, still struggling to get air into her diseased lungs.
Dad's eyes are rimmed scarlet and the dark blue bags under them reach down to the middle of his cheeks. I wonder if I look any better.
"Gail, honey, why don't you take a sleeping pill and get some rest?" Dad asks and I have my answer.
"No." I shake my head wildly. "What if I miss…"
Tears seal my throat and I bury my face in Dad's chest, wailing. He smells of whiskey, it's coming from his pores.
"Come, let's get some breakfast," he says and strokes my hair.
I let him lead me from the room and lean against him all the way down to the kitchen.
I gag on the first spoonful of my cereal, already regretting that I came down at all. I can't eat, I can't sleep, all I can do is wait and not think.
"Edna tells me you haven't left the house all week," Dad says. "Why don't you go visit Kate today, get away from it all for while?"
He's stirring his coffee but looking at me with worry etched into every line of his face, spraying the table top with brown specks.
No, Scott might be there, a voice in the back of my head screams, and nausea bursts from my stomach into my throat. I can't see him, I won't. I have to stay away, or his eyes will suck me right back in, make me fall and hurt myself even worse.
"Kate's away this week," I mumble because Dad's looking at me like he expects an answer.
Dad pats my hand and stands up. "I'll be home early today. Then maybe we can go for a walk on the beach and have some lunch."
"We have to stay here."
"We'll see," he says, wiping his eyes with his back to me and leaves the kitchen.
I stay seated, stirring my cereal, watching it congeal as it soaks up the milk.
The grandfather clock in the living room booms to life, making me shake and leap part way out of my chair. Seven dongs. I feel like I've just sat down a minute ago. I keep losing time like this for the last few days, time I'll never get back.
I leave the food where it is and stumble up the stairs, to my mom's room. It's stuffy in there, the air stale and musty. No wonder she can't get a good breath.
I draw the thick, purple velvet drapes apart and crack open the window. The wind smells of the sea, laced with a sweet honey fragrance. I close my eyes and lean my face into the wind, but it's not blowing hard enough today, not doing anything to take away my cares.
Scott is standing by Kate's pool, looking right at me. The sharp pain of longing twists my stomach. He doesn't wave or call out, and I stay perfectly still too. His look is a glare, filled with darkness and shadow. I could go down to him and apologize, but what would be the point? Under Scott's gaze, longing desire snakes through me, kindling my will to live. But it's as though another Gail is feeling those things. This one knows it for what it is now: a pointless, cruel distraction. Feeling good now, will only make the pain worse after.
I leave the window open but draw the thick drapes back over it, then climb into bed beside my mom. My heart thunders to life with each
We brought Mom home at dawn on Monday. Today's Wednesday and she still hasn't woken up. She has one more day before the two month sentence the doctors passed on her is up. With each gasping breath she takes, each hour she doesn't wake, I have less hope that her end is not very near now. I sleep with my bedroom door open and the lights on.
A raspy gasp followed by horrific coughs rips through me and I'm at her bedside, wide awake. The fluorescent green numbers on the alarm clock read 5:46 AM, but it's as though I hadn't slept at all, even though I went to bed before eight last night.
I hold my mom's hand as her chest heaves upwards in her struggle to breathe. Tears are hot and thick on my cheeks, blinding me, but I make no sound, not even a whimper; let alone a sob. I don't know who's shaking harder, her or me.
Dad comes in and lifts me off the bed so Edna can adjust Mom's IV. The coughs stop, but Mom is still gasping, still struggling to get air into her diseased lungs.
Dad's eyes are rimmed scarlet and the dark blue bags under them reach down to the middle of his cheeks. I wonder if I look any better.
"Gail, honey, why don't you take a sleeping pill and get some rest?" Dad asks and I have my answer.
"No." I shake my head wildly. "What if I miss…"
Tears seal my throat and I bury my face in Dad's chest, wailing. He smells of whiskey, it's coming from his pores.
"Come, let's get some breakfast," he says and strokes my hair.
I let him lead me from the room and lean against him all the way down to the kitchen.
I gag on the first spoonful of my cereal, already regretting that I came down at all. I can't eat, I can't sleep, all I can do is wait and not think.
"Edna tells me you haven't left the house all week," Dad says. "Why don't you go visit Kate today, get away from it all for while?"
He's stirring his coffee but looking at me with worry etched into every line of his face, spraying the table top with brown specks.
No, Scott might be there, a voice in the back of my head screams, and nausea bursts from my stomach into my throat. I can't see him, I won't. I have to stay away, or his eyes will suck me right back in, make me fall and hurt myself even worse.
"Kate's away this week," I mumble because Dad's looking at me like he expects an answer.
Dad pats my hand and stands up. "I'll be home early today. Then maybe we can go for a walk on the beach and have some lunch."
"We have to stay here."
"We'll see," he says, wiping his eyes with his back to me and leaves the kitchen.
I stay seated, stirring my cereal, watching it congeal as it soaks up the milk.
The grandfather clock in the living room booms to life, making me shake and leap part way out of my chair. Seven dongs. I feel like I've just sat down a minute ago. I keep losing time like this for the last few days, time I'll never get back.
I leave the food where it is and stumble up the stairs, to my mom's room. It's stuffy in there, the air stale and musty. No wonder she can't get a good breath.
I draw the thick, purple velvet drapes apart and crack open the window. The wind smells of the sea, laced with a sweet honey fragrance. I close my eyes and lean my face into the wind, but it's not blowing hard enough today, not doing anything to take away my cares.
Scott is standing by Kate's pool, looking right at me. The sharp pain of longing twists my stomach. He doesn't wave or call out, and I stay perfectly still too. His look is a glare, filled with darkness and shadow. I could go down to him and apologize, but what would be the point? Under Scott's gaze, longing desire snakes through me, kindling my will to live. But it's as though another Gail is feeling those things. This one knows it for what it is now: a pointless, cruel distraction. Feeling good now, will only make the pain worse after.
I leave the window open but draw the thick drapes back over it, then climb into bed beside my mom. My heart thunders to life with each
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