Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“So,” Mimi said, smacking her lips after a noisy sip, “who’s he really?”
“I told you, Nan, a friend.”
“Oh?” Mimi peered back at Gracen. “Or maybe more?”
“Don’t look too deep into things. I just wanted you to meet him.”
“He’s more,” her grandmother said with a nod to confirm her beliefs. “You brought him here, so.”
Gracen only laughed.
One of the nurses approached with a handful of Nerf darts for Mimi’s gun. She gave Gracen her empty cup as the woman reloaded Mimi’s pistol.
“But I like him,” Mimi told her.
Gracen beamed. Joy spread inside her chest like a rocket had lifted off with a giant explosion within her heart. “Yeah, Mimi, I do, too.”
*
Malachi moved sideways to move out of the doorway of Mimi’s private room as the meal crew came through with lunch. He’d been terribly patient throughout the morning, engaging Mimi and every person she stopped to introduce him to as Gracen’s friend, and winning her grandmother over even more with every charming smile when he did pull his mask down for it to be seen.
“I’m gonna go find myself a bottle of water,” he told Gracen.
“I’ll be here,” she returned with a smile.
Malachi winked before he disappeared. Mimi didn’t miss it.
“It’s good he’s cute,” she said.
Gracen gawked at her grandmother while the lady who brought lunch stifled her laugh by turning her head away. “Mimi.”
“What?”
The old woman had the decency to look confused.
“Men-n could n-not just do that in my day,” her grandmother explained, but the twinkle in her eye and her pleased grin said she’d meant to get the reaction from Gracen that she did.
“He didn’t do anything,” Gracen argued.
He didn’t even speak, in fact.
Mimi rolled her eyes. “Mmhmm.” Then, she beamed at the woman waiting with her tray. “What’s for lunch?”
“Vegetable soup and fresh rolls today, Mimi,” chirped the shorter of the two women who brought the tray of food into the room. The other waited outside, manning the cart. Also outside every resident's room was their name, so staff could greet them properly, and anything pertinent to know, like their level of need or care. “Are you thinking juice or tea?”
“Coffee?” Mimi returned.
“Decaf?” the woman who’s name tag read Kels.
Mimi scowled. “Why bother?”
Gracen laughed, standing from one of two recliners that could be spun to face the bed, bay window overlooking the rolling rear grass, or the TV mounted high on the wall. Mimi sat in the other. She adjusted the coffee table so the top lifted high using hidden arms underneath for Mimi’s dining table. “Tea is just fine, right, Mimi?”
Kels placed the tray and pulled off the cover showcasing the covered bowl, wrapped rolls, crackers, and tiny cup of condiments and spices waiting underneath.
“You n-need to eat, too,” Mimi said, not bothering to answer about the tea.
Her choice of drink was obvious.
Without the rum, now.
“We will,” Gracen assured her grandmother. “Thanks, Kels.”
She returned a wave on her way out the door.
“The cafeteria—”
“I planned to take Malachi to the take-out for lunch,” Gracen interjected, wanting Mimi to focus on eating and less on whether or not her granddaughter needed to as well. “Burgers and poutines, you know?”
Mimi peered over at Gracen when she retook her seat in the chair, the frailness in her voice making it shaky when she said, “Phil and Marla love the take-out, too. They n-never visit me.”
Gracen blinked.
The names of her dead parents slipped so easily from her grandmother’s lips. Almost as if Mimi didn’t realize she’d used them—and in the present tense, too—like they were still alive. As if she could still pick up the phone and call her son and his wife to complain about their lack of visits to the manor. The numbness settling over Gracen came on too fast and strong for her to shake off, but Mimi had already moved on to the food in front of her like nothing had happened at all.
In fact, for the five minutes it took for her to realize Malachi had yet to return to the room, her grandmother didn’t mention Gracen’s parents again.
She knew better than to prod or question Mimi when her recall of events from before the strokes were cloudy at best, but it took Gracen off guard.
It made it a bit hard to breathe for a second.
“Where did he go?” Mimi asked, her trembling hand holding a spoon full of soup broth high for her to blow cool. “The water is down-n the hall.”
Yes, the dispenser for residents or staff to use when needed. Not the vending machine meant for everyone else, however. At least, Mimi remembered Malachi. She didn't drift back into conversation of Gracen’s deceased parents, but that said nothing about Mimi’s thoughts.
Gracen did her best to hide the tears gathering in her eyes and the quake in her voice when she stood, telling Mimi, “I’ll go find Malachi.”