Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
As soon as I heard her greeting, I knew in my gut, this was not going to be a good phone call. My pulse quickened with worry, and that uneasy feeling filled me up inside. I slumped into the nearest chair.
“I know your parents are out of town right now,” she continued, “but Eli missed his therapy today. It was at five o’clock. Were you aware?”
“No,” I replied, voice cracking. I turned away from where the boys were sitting in the living room and blinked at the wall. “I mean, I knew he had therapy, I just didn’t know what day it was. I’m sorry.” I cupped my hand over my eyes. “Can he make it up? Do you have time tomorrow, or maybe this weekend? I can bring him whenever.”
I knew how important Eli’s speech therapy was. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten to ask him about it. Why wasn’t I thinking?
“Unfortunately, I don’t have any open slots for makeups. He sees me on Mondays and Thursdays, though. Those are his set appointments. Always at five o’clock.”
I grabbed the pen and scribbled that information down on the notebook paper I was quickly filling. “Okay. Um, could you maybe bill me instead of my parents for that one? It was my fault. I should’ve found out when his therapy was.”
“That can be arranged. That’s fine.”
“I’m so sorry. My mother is superwoman. I’m not sure how she does all this.”
I wrote the word STUPID in bold black ink at the bottom of the page and pointed an arrow at myself.
The woman laughed softly in my ear. “Probably because she has to. Don’t be too hard on yourself. It happens.”
Her words were kind, but they didn’t penetrate.
“Okay, I’ll have him there Monday. Thank you for calling.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry to hear about your grandmother.”
“Thank you.”
“Take care.”
Disconnecting the call, I set the phone down on the notebook paper and dropped my head into my hand, groaning. “Eli?”
“Yeah?”
“We forgot about your therapy today, buddy.” I slowly looked up, meeting his wide eyes over the back of the couch.
“Oops,” he said, wincing. “I f-forgot.”
“Me too. I didn’t even think about it.” I shook my head and sat back, tossing the pen across the table and watching it roll onto the floor. “I’m not thinking about anything. This is my fault. Not yours.”
Suddenly, Eli got to his feet and turned to face me. His shaky hands cupped his cheeks.
I sat up tall and asked him, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“D-don’t be m-mad at m-me, S-Shay.”
“Buddy, I’m not mad at you. I just said this is my fault.”
He shook his head and quickly rounded the couch, stopping at his book bag on the floor against the wall, and bent down to dig through it. When he straightened again and walked toward me, his feet dragging the carpet like he was fighting against some force making him move, he was holding a bright red folder.
“I w-was s-s-supposed to g-give you this. I f-f-forgot.” Eli handed me the folder over top of the table, then shoved his hands in his pants pockets and lowered his head.
I opened the folder and saw papers inside with my mother’s careful handwriting.
There was a list of contact numbers, the boys’ school agendas, and a calendar of activities.
Everything I needed to know was in here.
Dominic’s tutoring schedule, practice days and times, and Eli’s therapy days. Everything was listed and detailed. Times, places, directions, she included everything. And at the bottom was a note to me, thanking me for all my help.
I bit my lip to keep from crying and looked up at Eli. “Hey.”
He kept looking at the carpet.
“E, hey, look at me,” I said, getting his eyes that time. There was so much sadness there, it was difficult to take, but I somehow managed to give him an easy smile in return. “Thank you so, so much for giving me this. I forgot to ask you for it. Mom told me you had it, and I just completely forgot. I’m sorry.”
His eyes flickered wider, and he sucked in a breath. “S-She did?”
I nodded. There was no way I was letting him take the blame for this. That look on his face was killing me.
“I-I…it w-wasn’t my f-f-fault?” he asked.
I stood then, dropping the folder on the table and pulling him into a hug. “No, it was my fault,” I said against his hair. “You reminded me. If you wouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what would’ve happened. You totally saved the day.”
His little body sagged with relief, then he hugged me back with the strongest arms of any eight-year-old boy, I was sure of it.
I kissed the top of his head. “Thank you.”
“Y-You’re welcome.”
After giving me a smile, Eli walked away, his steps lighter now since he wasn’t carrying the weight of that worry anymore. He sat down on the couch, laughed at something Dominic said, and resumed playing his game.