Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I taste the broth, add salt and white pepper until I’m satisfied, and add the shredded chicken and the noodles. Jack should be home any minute, and the soup will be ready for him.
I sit down on his sofa, fire up my laptop to do a little more work, when I hear the door clicking.
First to walk in is Noreen. She gasps when she sees me.
“Mandy, you scared me for a moment. What are you doing here?”
“I came over to make sure things were nice for Jack when he got home.” I nod to the flowers. “I’ve got homemade chicken soup all ready for him.”
“Oh, goodness. You needn’t have bothered. I was going to go to the deli and get some chicken soup.”
I smile. “Now you won’t have to.”
The Parises live on Long Island. They have a long drive ahead of them.
Jackson comes in a moment later with his father.
His black eye looks worse than it did yesterday, which means it’s healing.
“Hey, Mandy Cake.” Then he widens his eyes. “I mean…Mandy.”
“Mandy Cake is fine. You call me whatever you want to, Jackson. I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
He inhales. “What smells so good?”
“My mom’s famous chicken soup. Without homemade noodles, though.”
“I can get some at the deli with homemade noodles if you prefer,” Noreen says.
“No, Mandy’s chicken soup is great. I can’t wait to have a big bowlful. Thank you, Mandy.”
“It’s ready whenever you are.”
“I’m going to make myself comfortable in the extra bedroom,” Noreen says. “Bill, would you get my bag from the car?”
“Yes, dear.” Bill heads out the door.
“Mom, you don’t have to stay here.”
“Nonsense. Of course I’m going to stay here. You’ll be needing some help.”
“I can stay,” I say.
“Don’t you have a dog at home?” Noreen says.
“I do, but he loves Jackson. I’ll just go get him. If Jackson needs someone here, I’m happy to do it.”
“Please, I’m his mother. This is my job.”
She’s right, of course. “I understand.” I gather my laptop and my purse. “Jack, you know where I am if you need me.”
He turns then, grabs my forearm. “Mandy. Please don’t leave.”
“Of course I’ll stay if you want me to.”
“At least have a bowl of soup with me.”
“All right.” I walk to his kitchen, grab two bowls out of the cupboard, and then turn to his parents. “Noreen? Bill? Would you like to try some soup?”
“No, thank you,” Noreen says. “And Bill will be getting on the road as soon as he brings my bag up.”
“Okay.” I ladle two bowls for Jackson and me and bring them over to his dining room table. “Do you want yours on a tray? So you can eat on the couch?” I ask Jack.
“No. I can sit at the table. I’m fine, you guys. Really.”
He sits down, and I serve his soup with a spoon and a napkin.
“I’m just so glad you’re okay, Jack. I was worried sick. I don’t know what I would do without my best friend.”
He touches my forearm again, and I try to ignore the tingles that shoot through me.
“Mandy, you will never know the answer to that question.”
I smile.
He leans forward and whispers, “I need to talk to you. I need to talk to you so badly, but my mom…”
“I understand,” I whisper back.
Noreen comes bustling out of the extra bedroom. “Jackson, what happened to those Egyptian cotton sheets I bought for you?”
“They’re on my bed, Mom.”
“Oh. Of course they are. Do you have an extra set?”
“Check the linen closet in the hallway. If you don’t find something you like, take the sheets off my bed and put them on the extra bed. I don’t care.”
“Goodness, I would never do that.” Noreen walks away, and I hear her pawing through the linen closet.
“I love my mother, Mandy, but I wish you were staying here with me.”
“I do, too, Jack, but you’ll be fine.” I can’t help myself. I reach toward his face, gently touch him right below his eye. “Does it hurt?”
“Actually, it feels a lot better. Looks worse than it feels at this point.”
“I’m glad. And your memory?”
“Sharp as a tack. I woke up this morning, and I didn’t have a foggy feeling anymore.”
I smile.
“Did I tell you that I remembered you before I remembered myself?”
Warmth coats me. “You did.”
“It made me realize something—”
“All settled in.” Noreen comes bustling back into the room like a tornado. “Jackson, I have to organize your linen closet. It’s a mess.”
“It’s fine, Mom.”
Jack’s father comes back with the bag. Noreen takes the large navy duffel from him, gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Drive safely, Bill. Call me when you get home.”
“Will do.”
Then he looks at Jack. “You okay, son? Anything you need before I leave?”
“No, Dad. Thanks.”
Once Bill is gone, Noreen starts messing with the linen closet.
“Mandy,” Jack says. “I really need to talk to you.”