Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“We’re a good match, Rye.”
She sighs, then says, “Listen, I have to go. I want to stay, but I’m just so tired. Tomorrow, when I wake up fully sober, I’m going to make a change. Thanks for not hating me.”
“I could never hate you.”
After seeing her to the door, I turn to the garden, a smile instantly taking shape on my face when I see the dogs playing. It was a joy bomb having Loki just visit, but having two of them here is just the best. It somehow makes all this seem less sharp, less cruel.
This is how I lived all those years as a kid; I was lonely, thinking I enjoyed it better that way. I watched. I tried to see the beauty in the simple things, never believing I could have more, but maybe …
Loki darts forward with the quickness of a spring breeze, his paws barely touching the ground. Luna responds with a graceful sidestep, her sleek form weaving through the grass like a ribbon.
They circle each other, eyes locked, the anticipation building. Loki pounces, his leap a burst of enthusiasm, but Luna is already spinning away, her body curving in a fluid arc. He chases, but she is quicksilver, slipping just out of reach. I find myself longing to feel so carefree.
It must feel like belonging, knowing precisely the correct shape to take and the proper motion to melt against another.
Loki pauses, head tilted, calculating his next move. Luna stands a few paces away, her tail a banner of challenge. With a sudden burst, Loki charges again; this time, Luna lets him come. They collide in a tangle of limbs and happy barking, rolling together in the grass. At last, they collapse side by side, panting but content.
I might feel guilty for taking this opportunity, but at least I get moments like this before I head inside.
I text Lacey. You around for a quick chat?
Instead of texting me back, she calls me. “I’m sorry. I know you just got off shift,” I say, feeling guilty for bothering her.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Lacey says. “What’s up?”
“Just after you left, Mom had a really bad crying episode. She couldn’t stop for about ten minutes. I want to help her, but …” Not a home. Not yet. Oh, God. “The last time we were at the doctor’s, they mentioned this new medication, Nuedexta. I’m concerned about the side effects, though.”
“Yeah, many of my other patients use that,” Lacey mutters thoughtfully. “It’s a lot to think about. Nuedexta can help with those emotional ups and downs she’s been having, and it might make her feel a bit more comfortable.”
“I heard it can make her really drowsy or even psychotic. That sounds so scary.”
She pauses, and I know she’s giving it real thought. “It sounds worrying, but those side effects aren’t very common. The drowsiness can usually be managed by adjusting when and how much she takes. As for the psychotic symptoms, they’re rare, and we’ll be watching her closely for any signs.”
Still, even just watching for signs of Mom losing her mind freaks me out, but is this better? Letting her suffer? “I just don’t want her to be more uncomfortable or out of it. She’s already going through so much.”
“It’s a tough balance, but if you don’t want to do the other option …” She pauses, swallowing audibly. “Think about the good moments it could bring, where she’s not feeling as much emotional pain or discomfort. It could mean more peaceful times for both her and you.
“I just want to do what’s best for her, but it’s hard to know what that is sometimes.”
“You’re doing an incredible job, Maya. Don’t doubt that. Just being there for her is huge. You won’t believe some of the situations I see. I’m here to support you both. You’re not alone in this at all.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, giving the drug some real thought.
The symptoms put me off when the doctor first mentioned it, but Mom deserves it.
“Seriously,” I go on, realizing I probably sound ungrateful. “I think I might try it. I’ll call up the doctor and see how Mom feels. Who knows, it could be a new lease, right?”
“Maya,” Lacey says softly. “You know I can’t tell you anything like that.”
That’s right. We both know where this ends. There’s only one destination.
“Thanks for being so patient with me,” I tell Lacey. “I know it must be tough on you too.”
“I have to make myself cold. It’d wreck me if I let myself care too much, honestly. See you soon.”
“Bye, Lacey.”
Heading inside, I check on Mom, meticulously going over her equipment and her medications. Technically, I’m not supposed to be doing this. I’ve watched Lacey and learned the basics, enough to keep us ticking along. Mom doesn’t like it when I change her incontinence pads and urge her to use the metal urinal, but this is life. This is the blunt reality of what a dedicated daughter has to do.