Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 108650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Oh, my god, did my sudden confrontation of my financial reality come with a tattoo that says ‘ATM’ across my forehead?” I snapped my fingers as I reached toward the cardboard six-pack of bottles.
Mom leaned over and grabbed one then handed it to me. “I don’t know about all that, but I did say that I hoped my kid would be richer than I was, so I could live out my golden years in peace.”
“You’re in your forties, Blanche Deveraux,” I reminded her.
“But you won’t be forever,” Holli said. “You better start making those wedding plans.”
“I know, I know.” Mom sighed. “I promise we will. But I haven’t been in a relationship for so long, it’s nice to just savor this one.” She paused at the sight of me taking a drink. “Like you better savor that. Because you’re not having more than one.”
“Uh!” I protested in as petulant a voice as possible.
“You’re diabetic, Sophie Ann. You have to start taking care of yourself,” Mom scolded.
“I am! I’m going to the doctor—”
“Before you go to the doctor, you can start.”
The problem with having a mother who used to work in a hospital was her insistence on butting into my medical life.
“Speaking of doctors,” Holli said, smoothly segueing to a topic that wouldn’t cause a huge mother-daughter blowout, “how’s the thing with your sister going?”
“Slowly.” Slower than I would have liked, but I was fast learning that what I liked and what reality was wouldn’t always reconcile just because I had money. “They’re talking about a donor chain, now. Someone donates to someone, they get someone to donate to someone else, pay it forward, that whole thing. I’ve got a full-page ad running in the Times and in the Detroit Free Press. And in basically any Elwood and Stern publication going to print this month. Neil hired a publicist, so we’re really hoping people will contact the donor registry.”
“I hope they get flooded with kidneys!” Holly exclaimed, then made a face. “Not literally. Can you imagine how wet and gooey—”
“Gross!” I shrieked.
Mom raised her voice to be heard over the mini-splash fight that ensued. “I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing for her.”
I wiped water away from my eyes. “I think it’s what anyone would do. If they could. I think we would all move the moon for our families.”
“That’s the truth,” Holli agreed.
“Well, let’s hope no further moon-moving is required of any of us for a while,” Mom said, raising her bottle as if in a toast. While nobody was close enough to clink, we all made the made the noise.
Epilogue
Six weeks in, and the best part of being unemployed was spending time with my family. Even if we couldn’t all be together. Neil and Olivia and I were about to spend a quality dinner together when my phone made the tinkling noise I’d assigned to Facetime.
Neil brought our plates to the table, pausing to kiss Olivia’s head as he passed. “What happened to no phones at the dinner table?”
“It’s El-Mudad!” I shrieked, flapping my hands excitedly.
Neil pretended to be disappointed as I answered. “I suppose we can break the rule, just this once.”
“Sophie!” Just the sight of El-Mudad’s gorgeous face was enough to bring an entire species of butterflies to my stomach. The excitement in his voice was just icing on those butterflies.
Which would probably kill a butterfly. But I couldn’t think straight during the “new love” phase.
“I’m here, as well,” Neil called, pretending to be hurt.
“I knew you would be. You’re the inseparables,” El-Mudad joked. I spied the rear window of a car behind him, and the fact that he was in transit somehow drove our separation deeper, as though he were driving even farther away from us.
A pang of longing tugged at my heart. “I wish we could all be inseparable.”
Neil stood behind my chair, stooping down to fit himself into the conversation. “In two weeks, we will be. For a short time, anyway.”
“Ah, yes. That’s why I’m calling.” El-Mudad’s face fell, and my heart went with it.
“No,” Neil said softly. “What’s happened?”
“I need to return to Bahrain. Some family business has become complicated. I do wish to see you, but unfortunately, it seems that will be put off until Christmas.”
“I do hope it’s nothing serious?” Neil asked.
El-Mudad shook his head. “No, no. Not serious. Inconvenient.”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I couldn’t follow my own orders. Tears sprang to my eyes.
“Oh, my love. Don’t. Please, I can’t stand to make you unhappy,” El-Mudad said sorrowfully. “We will be together soon. I promise.”
“Not soon enough.” From the tone of Neil’s voice, I knew he was already planning an emergency trip to meet El-Mudad somewhere. “When will you be back in France?”
“That, I can’t say. Not yet.” The car door opened, and he looked up. “Ah, I must go. We can speak more about this later.”