Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
I wait until she’s finished bitching to insist on helping her into the seat only to be met by a new annoyed scoff. “I have physical therapy these days, Zel.”
“I know.”
“I can get myself into the chair alone.”
Her resistance has my shoulders sagging. “Mom, I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“And I’m just trying to remind you – like I have your father – that I’m a bit more useful now.”
“Don’t say useful,” I softly chide.
“I can do so much more than I thought I ever would again. All the therapy and medications are working. You two have to let me do some things on my own again.”
Pride over her regained independence is immediately pummeled by panic.
Oh god…what if…what if the nurses stop coming?
Or the training ceases?
Or the medication suddenly isn’t covered?
What if all of Mom’s progress is shot to shit because I made a stupid mistake?
Because her son made a stupid fucking mistake?!
“Princess,” she cautiously calls out at the same time she works her way into her chair, “you okay?”
“Yeah,” I poorly brush off, “just a little…a little exhausted is all.” Sniffles are followed by me redirecting my gaze over to the narrowed area out of the room. “Should we take a blanket?”
“It’s summer in Florida, Zel,” her tone is full of levity. “Unless we’re taking it to dab away sweat, I think we’ll be fine.”
The snarky response successfully receives a genuine smile, yet catching the cheerful yellow corner of the knit throw blanket dangling off the side of her bed eradicates it.
Gracefully, I guide her over the wooden flooring and out through the French doors.
With every step, I reminisce on the other times I went out to the veranda, which was to call Elias.
Once was all it took to learn that I had been blocked.
And immediately after?
Well, that’s when the madness commenced.
I spiraled under my breath while attempting to call again from my mother’s phone – just to confirm it wasn’t my cell being weird.
Third call attempt, I used our house phone.
Fourth call, Dad’s.
Increased panic had me picturing Tomas somehow planting a cellphone blocker in his place to prevent us from being able to communicate.
Reconnect.
Fifth and sixth call…led to me realizing I’m in the worst-case scenario.
He changed his personal number.
Severed all ties.
Gave up all hope for us.
I stop walking, slinking around the edge of the living room to open the front door, struggling not to trip over my own dragging feet in the process.
“Aw, can you feel it?” Mom happily hums, face tilted toward the sky to indulge in what I presume are sweet sunrays. “Can you really feel it?”
The loneliness?
The sadness?
The inability to go on like that girl from Titanic didn’t want to?
Yeah.
I can and do totally feel it.
“Zel?”
“Oh, yeah,” my inflection is lifeless while my focus stays planted on how easily she wheels herself the remainder of the way. “Beautiful day.”
“Zel!”
The viciousness of her snip lifts my eyes to hers. Without further warning, a tornado of English and Spanish descend on me causing my eyes to widen. Between her harsh words – some of which I haven’t heard leave her lips in years – and displeased tone, it’s more than evident she’s had her fill of my sour mood.
Honestly?
She’s not the only one.
Finally, I find the smallest pause to propel myself into the conversation. “Mom, I’m not-”
“Lie to me again, and I will pull you over my knee to punish you like I did when you were seven and refused to tell the truth about how gum got in your hair.”
Well, I couldn’t tell her the boy I liked put it there!
That would’ve ruined everything!
Tomas would’ve found out and most likely beat him up thinking he was yet again…saving me.
A stiff finger wags in my direction. “Sit.”
I plop onto the porch swing and clasp the edging for stability.
“Explain.”
Gazing into her stern stare it becomes harder to keep everything bottled in.
“From the beginning…”
The words pour out of me like blood. “I love him, Mom. I love him so much that it physically hurts for us to be apart like this. I’ve never felt about anyone like I do about him. And I’ve never had anyone make me feel like he does. Being together was like living in a fairytale, which I know, I know, fairytales aren’t real, but this was…we were…so real. He listened to every word I said. He asked me about school and then actively participated in conversations about it. And he asked me about my favorite movies and music and even favorite foods. He’d take me to restaurants that served Cuban dishes knowing how much I missed your cooking and how much time I don’t have to make it myself. And he’d take me to these events where he’d show me off because he…treasured me like I was someone worth treasuring.” My longing gaze hits the floor space in front of me as I begin to lightly sway. “And I know it started off with a three-month contract – a rather twisted one – but what it became…,” the headshake conjures up a tear, “was something no fairy godmother could ever make real.”