Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
There would be no baptism into death. I wanted to live. And there, in my grandmother’s arms, I was reborn.
Preppy cleared his throat and our spell was broken.
“Samuel go get my robe please. It’s hanging on the back of my door.” Mirna set me down on the bed and sat down next to me, keeping my hand tightly in hers. Her eyes were wet and puffy, just as I imagined mine were. Preppy left and came back seconds later, chucking the robe at me. I quickly covered up, tying the sash around my waist. Mirna tentatively touched her fingertips to my cheek, as if she still couldn’t believe I was real. “Samuel,” she said, turning back to Preppy. “This is my granddaughter. This is my Andrea. My girl’s finally come home.”
I leaned into her hand and we both sighed.
I’d always hated being close to people. Never cared to be touched or to hold hands. But my grandmother had always been different. Maybe it was that she was older. Maybe I liked the way her wrinkled skin felt wise and safe.
“Well isn’t this a lucky coincidence?” Preppy barked, running a hand through his hair and stepping fully into the room until he was only a few inches away, towering over us as he looked down, his lips twisted in confusion.
“Yes,” Mirna said. “What’s wrong, Samuel?”
“What’s wrong?” Preppy asked, his eyes locking on to mine. Suddenly, I realized that this reunion with my grandmother was going to be short lived. He was going to tell her about the roll I played in destroying her plants, and any hopes I’d had to reconnect with my grandmother would be left in that room when I was thrown out. Preppy paused and glanced between us. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, his mood lightening. “I knew you looked familiar, should have known from the six million pictures of you hanging around here.” He turned to Mirna. “But she looks a bit different now, doesn’t she?” he asked her, like he was setting up a joke for the punchline.
“Yes, she does,” Mirna said, taking in my appearance. “Did I do this?” she asked Preppy, pointing to an IV drip next to the bed that I hadn’t even realized was there. I raised my hand where tape residue and a bruise from the needle was still on the back of it.
“That’s the reason why you’re not in a world of hurt right now,” Preppy said to me, before answering Mirna. “Yep, you did this, you fixed her up good, like you always fix everyone up good,” Preppy said, his kindness toward Mirna taking me off guard. I didn’t know what to make of this person. His every word, his every move was as contradictory as his clothes and tattoos. “When I found her in rough shape last week, I brought her here. Never thought she was your granddaughter though, that’s just a happy accident.”
“Last week!” I exclaimed. Mirna’s gasp mirrored my own. “I’ve been here for a week?”
“Yeah, Mirna gave you some night-night juice and pumped you full of some vitamin concoction that had you snoring worse than Oscar,” Preppy said, bending down to pat the pig I’d forgotten all about. “Kept you from feeling the worst of it.”
“You’ve been here for an entire week and I’m only just seeing you now,” Mirna said to me. She turned to Preppy, “A week is the longest I’ve…” she started to say before stopping and putting on a brave face, straightening her posture and wiping at her eyes. “It’s okay, it’s fine. You’re here now, and that’s all that really matters.”
“Yes,” I agreed, wanting so badly for that to be true.
“I’m going to step into the kitchen and leave you girls alone to catch up for a minute,” Preppy announced. He bent over and kissed Mirna on the top of the head, and instinctually I flinched. Preppy chuckled and left the room.
I really wanted to ask Mirna what her arrangement was with him, the plants, all of it, but not knowing the situation, I didn’t want to bring up anything that might accidentally upset her.
“Tell me you’re here to stay,” Mirna said, eagerly awaiting my answer.
That’s when I realized that staying wasn’t a choice. I had nowhere else to go. “My dad. He thought I was coming home. He was probably waiting for me at the bus station.” My heart hurt, and my body again felt sick when I imagined the look on his face when I didn’t get off that bus.
“We will call him, dear. I’m sure we can talk to him and tell him…”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “We can’t. That was my last chance. If I wasn’t on that bus…” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t want to say out loud that my dad was no longer my family.