Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Sam’s Mom
I don’t move until the phone stops ringing. The message icon starts blinking. I pick it up and hold it to my ear.
“Autumn, it’s Sam’s mom here. I’ve got some bad news. Sam… Sam,” her voice breaks. There is a pause where I hear her take a deep breath. Then she continues in a strange robotic monotone. “Sam’s gone. It was a hit and run. She didn’t suffer. She died on the spot. I’ll call you again about the funeral. Goodbye, dear.”
Chapter 47
Autumn
Slowly, I put the phone back on the table. I clasp my hands together to stop them from trembling. I don’t believe her. I can’t believe her. She can’t be right. It’s impossible. I saw her last weekend for God’s sake. I think I stood there for hours, but I cannot say, because time had lost all meaning for me. I must have been in shock. I was startled into movement by the sound of the bell above the door.
Lifting my head, I walk into the gallery. It is the lady from the boutique where we bought our dresses. She is carrying a large white box.
“Hello,” I greet, my voice sounds strange. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here to deliver this dress to you. I’m sorry I’m a day late. Someone accidentally left an oily finger print on the skirt so I had to have the stain professionally cleaned. It is now flawless again.” She smiles.
I frown. I feel so confused. I can’t even think straight. “I didn’t order a dress.”
“Well, somebody did. It’s all paid for. Enjoy,” she says, with a wink. She leaves the box on the table. “Give me a call if you need to make any alterations.”
I stare down at the box.
“Bye,” she calls as she exits the gallery.
I open the box and part the tissue inside. It is the green dress in the window. I take the envelope and pull out the card.
I simply couldn’t resist.
I knew it would be perfect for you.
Make sure you don’t let Mr. Ghost tear it in his haste though. LOL
Send me pics as soon you as you get this.
xxxxxxx
Sam
A thin, high-pitched, completely foreign sounding wail flows out of my mouth. It is such an eerie sound I hear Larry running across his office. He runs down the stairs and appears in the gallery an anxious look on his face.
“What is it?” he asks urgently.
I can’t answer him. Tears are running down my face.
“Autumn, what the hell is going on?”
“Sam’s dead. Hit and run.” The unbearable words come out in an odd scratchy voice.
As his jaw drops in shock. I feel the card drop back on top of the tissue, and my legs start moving as if they have a mind of their own. I run out of the gallery and down the road. I run without knowing where I’m going. Sam’s dead, but she bought a dress for me. People turn to stare at me, but I don’t care. Nothing matters anymore. Sam is gone.
I run until I get to the bar. I stop and go inside. It smells of beer and fried fish inside. There are only a few customers seated at the tables. I take a seat at the bar.
“I work at the gallery, but I haven’t brought any money with me. Could I have some drinks now and pay for it tomorrow, please?”
The bartender takes one look at my snotty face and nods. “No problem. What would you like?”
“Vodka neat. Make it a double.”
His expression doesn’t change. As if he’s used to grief-stricken women coming in alone in the late afternoon to order vodka doubles. “Gotcha.”
My throat hurt. My eyes hurt too and there is a horrible, horrible pain in my chest. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why did she have to go and die on me? How could she? My eyes are so full of tears the bar becomes blurry.
“Here you go,” the barman says.
I pick up the glass and throw the Vodka down my throat and it spreads its warmth into my belly. She was supposed to outlast me with her superfoods, healthy breakfast smoothies, her careful study of food labels before she deemed them good enough to put into her body. She might as well have eaten ice cream and cake for breakfast, drank full fat Coke, and stuffed herself with fast food for lunch and dinner. My gut burns with rage. She was cheated. I was cheated.
I slam the glass on the counter. “Another one… please.”
“Coming up.”
I throw a few back. My head spins slightly. I stand. “I’ll be back tomorrow to pay the tab.” Then I leave the bar. Outside the setting sun hits my eyes and makes me squint. I sway for a few seconds as I get my bearings. I must have drunk far more than I thought, or maybe it was just because I drank on an empty stomach.