Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I plop down onto the ottoman, and before I know it, I’m wiping a few stray tears.
“Oh, hey …” She slowly leans forward and reaches for my leg.
I shake my head and smile past the emotion. “Sorry. I just … I think I’ve needed a therapist or a …”
“A friend?”
I nod and sniffle.
“Well, you have one right here. Okay?” She finds my hand and squeezes it.
I blow out a breath and smile, eyeing her frail body while feeling her inner strength. “You’re not letting the cancer define you?”
She shakes her head. “I have too much living to do. It might not be in this lifetime, but that’s okay. I’ll grab a cancer-free vehicle and take it for a new journey in my next life. I don’t believe we ever end; we simply move on.”
I don’t know what to believe. But if thinking like Suzie means life is full of pleasure and adventure without fearing death, she just converted me to a new religion.
CHAPTER FIVE
By mid-summer, Suzie becomes more than my friend. She’s my mother, my sister, and my mentor. If—when—she dies, it will hurt more than it would if my biological mom died. I still clean her house on Tuesdays, but I also hang out with her in the evenings when Zach has a late flight home. One might think our age gap would leave us with little to talk about, but it’s quite the opposite.
Suzie loves watching me edit photos. And I enjoy snapping a few candid shots of her when she least expects it. She gives me an eye roll, and I peek around my camera and give her a wink.
She’s always interested in talking about my mom and her sordid past. I think it’s her way of giving me therapy, which I can’t afford. I enjoy her mentoring me on gardening and caring for her jungle. At the same time, she shares all the places around the world she visited during her career as a flight attendant. And we both love reality TV, celebrity gossip, and all things fashion.
There are good days and bad days—days I think she’s miraculously beating the cancer and days that feel like the end is near. So many times, I’ve come close to confessing my housing situation. I’ve casually mentioned student loan debt and a few medical bills—but I’ve never told her they’re piled a mile high. I don’t want her pity. I’ll figure out my own shit … eventually. For now, I just want to be her friend.
“Thank you,” she says.
I glance down at her from the ladder, dusting the lights above the island while she eats her Cap’n Crunch. That’s how I know today is a good day. Cap’n is always a good day. “It’s my job. You pay me, and no thanks required.” I wink.
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about us. You’re the only friend I have who doesn’t give me the pity look. You don’t bombard me with questions about new treatments. You don’t tell me I should be on a juice cleanse and meditate every day. When we’re together, it’s easy to forget I have cancer.”
My attention returns to the lights because she’s trying to make me cry, which would look like pity. She’s set the bar high. I’ll have to really watch what I say, how I look at her, and definitely not suggest too much nutritious food. I’ll drop off a pint of her favorite ice cream if Zach is working tomorrow.
“Sometimes I forget that you hired me to clean your house, especially since Zach has been so grateful. When I first started working for you, I felt like he was unsure about our friendship. Like maybe he resented it? But now I feel like he’s truly grateful that we’ve bonded. I’ve never had a boss say thank you as much as he does.”
I finish wiping the last light and toss the dusting rag over my shoulder. Grabbing the cereal box, I help myself to some breakfast contraband—sans washing my hands. We know I’m not going to kill her with a bit of dust and dirt.
Suzie smiles, adjusting her red beanie. It’s ninety-five degrees outside, but she’s chosen a winter hat to cover her head that still hasn’t seen much hair growth. She’s cold all the time, but I don’t say much. There’s not much to say when it comes to her physical state.
It is what it is.
“Zach is …” She smiles, and it’s love. Unconditional love. And it’s a little heartbreaking because I don’t think their story ends with a happily ever after. “Listen, Em … don’t clean houses forever … unless it’s really what you want. But I think you’re going to be a wildly famous photographer someday, so don’t spend all the interim cleaning houses. It’s a big world. Travel. Make memories. Make mistakes. Make love. Blow an entire paycheck on a handbag or the most impractical shoes. I saved my money. I should have bought the shoes. Be better than me, Em.”