Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 103(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
She sets down the donut boxes on my dining room table. I look in the bag, full of muffins from the Sugar Sweet Bakery, a local place that we all favor over the chains.
Tallie emerges from the bedroom, probably drawn by the aroma of fresh-baked breakfast goods. It’s been about two hours since she woke up before. The two hours did help her a bit, but damn, she still looks rough. Absolutely gorgeous, but rough. “Good morning,” she says, her voice soft and weak.
“Morning!” Lemon smiles back, looking over at Tallie. “Hey, that’s my old Twenty-One Pilots shirt. I was wondering where that went.”
“Sorry,” Tallie says, turning red. Mom had quite the roster of hand-me-downs at hand. She’s a bit of a hoarder, to be honest.
“Nah, you need it more than I do, and I’m kind of over them. Muffin?” She holds a blueberry muffin out to Tallie.
Tallie just laughs and sits down. “Thank you again.”
“We heard you the first sixty-three times,” I say, my smile wide. “We’re glad to help.”
“I’m Lemon,” my sister says, taking a donut for herself. “Graham’s big sister.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tallie says, sipping the coffee offered to her. “Do all your siblings have food-related names?”
“Yep,” I say. “It’s a tradition from my mother’s family. Our grandmother named her kids after what she craved when she was pregnant. Her children were Angus and Anise.”
“So, your siblings are probably named, I don’t know, Hamburger, Pizza, Spam, Chipotle Mayo, and Cookies and Cream Mint Ice Cream?”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “She’s a bit more subtle than that. Anything on rye gave us my brother Rye. Pears gave us Bartlett. Lemon meringue pie gave us my lovely sister here. Reuben came from exactly what you’d expect. Mac is macaroni and cheese with everything, and Fig is probably actual figs, but we used to tease her by calling her Fig Newton.”
“What about you, golden Graham? Just cereal?”
“S’mores actually. She calls me golden Graham because of my dirty blond hair and how she thinks I’m golden. I think if she intended for me to be an endorsement of a specific product, she’d be wanting General Mills to pay her.”
The three of us chuckle as we enjoy our pastries. Seeing Tallie smile is a treat, knowing everything she’s dealt with in the past twenty-four hours.
Her phone rings, and she looks at it, her face turning dour. I’m worried that the tragedies aren’t over for her just yet.
She picks it up. “Hello? Oh. Alright. I’ll be in soon.”
She clicks off the phone, the color draining from her face.
“What’s the matter?” I ask.
“They’ve started recovery operations. They found my sister’s purse, and a woman’s body not far from it. They...” She swallows, tears welling up in her eyes. “They want me to come in and confirm if it’s her or not.”
Her sadness is a sting in my soul. I want to hold her, care for her. But I barely know her, so all I can do is offer her a hand. “I’ll take you down there when you’re ready, Tallie.”
Lemon is also quick to offer her support. “I’ll look after your child. I got nothing else to do today, the last thing you need is to juggle her on top of everything else.”
She nods. We’ve at least earned her trust with our kindness, which I’m thankful for myself.
After breakfast, we’re back in my truck rolling into Home proper. Tallie’s dressed in more of my sister's clothes, awkwardly fitting on her but it doesn’t matter. She’s still gorgeous even when most would describe her outfit as frumpy.
During the ride, she’s quiet, staring off into the distance, tears in her eyes as she struggles to keep her head on straight.
I offer my hand across the bench seat. “It’ll be alright,” I say, my words feeling empty.
She lets out a long sigh.
“I’m here for you, Tallie. My family is here for you. This isn’t a temporary offer, we’re never going to throw someone out on the street who doesn’t deserve it.”
She nods, and accepts my hand. “Thank you,” she says, gratitude something she’s never short on.
We pull into the county morgue. The parking lot is fuller than all the other times I’ve passed it, for quite obvious reasons. Tallie isn’t the only one here hoping that the call she received turns out to be a false alarm. Hand in hand, we walk in. She gives her name at the front desk.
We wait. It has to be agonizing for her. Every minute of uncertainty picking at her. Finally, an official comes in and leads us back to the morgue. He pulls a drawer out, revealing the woman they think is Tallie’s sister.
Tallie immediately bursts into tears, her face going to my chest. I hold her tight, stroking her hair, feeling her pain. Or thinking I do. I’ve never lost someone so close like she just has. My grandfather, but he died of old age.