Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
On the fourth day—after more rounds of her pushing—I let her wash and style my hair. It was weird. I had gotten used to other people doing my hair now, but for some reason, having my mom do it made me feel like I was a kid again. She had brought the white plastic chair into the hospital bathroom just so she could do my hair.
“Are you ready?” she asked with her hands over my face.
“I was ready an hour ago.”
“Shh. I don’t know why you act as if you don’t know you have a lot of hair, child. Perfection takes time.”
“I thought you said perfection was never possible.”
“For people. For hair, see for yourself,” she said, lifting her hands from my eyes, and I looked into the mirror.
There I was, curls and all. They felt bigger and prettier. I wasn’t sure if it was because I hadn’t seen them in so long or if it was because it was just truly fabulous.
“Well?” she asked, puffing up the side a little bit more.
Biting my lip, my eyes welled up, and I did not want to, but damn it, the tears fell even though I was happy. Wiping them away quickly, I smiled at her. “You’re right; it is perfect.”
“See, don’t you know your mama got skills?” she said with her fake Southern accent and her hands placed on her hips.
“Yeah, I know,” I replied grinning. I looked at the counter to see every product she had bought. “Where did you get all of this? Did you bring it with you?”
“Of course not. I didn’t even remember proper clothes.” She motioned over the jeans and shirt she now wore. “I had Wolfgang bring it.”
“Mom!”
“What?”
“He saved my life, and you asked him to get macadamia oil?”
“What? He’s the only one here. Who else was I supposed to ask?” she argued—I couldn’t believe her. She was using my savior as her errand boy! “Oh, don’t make that face. He’s the one who refuses to leave and keeps asking if we need anything. When I say no, he looks like a wounded puppy.”
“Don’t abuse it—”
“Oh, my God, you must be feeling better. You are already lecturing me.”
“I am not lecturing. I’m...”
She gave me a look.
“Okay, I’m lecturing a little bit, but still.”
Knock.
Pause.
Knock. Knock. Tap?
“Hello?”
“We are in here, Wolfgang!” she called out to me.
“You guys came up with a secret knock?” I gasped as Wolfgang came into the room, then peeked into the bathroom carefully, holding a duffel bag.
“Miss, you look very nice.” He grinned, nodding in approval.
I smiled. “Thank you, Wolfgang. You really don’t have to keep coming every day to drop off stuff for my mom.”
“Of course, I do. I am your secretary. If you are here, I am here,” he said happily before bending down. “Now, I got what you asked, Ms. Wilhelmina.”
“What did she ask for?”
“A silk scarf and pillowcase—”
“Mom!” I whipped back to look at her, and she waved me off.
“Thank you, Wolfgang, if only all the men in my life were as reliable as you,” she replied, going to take the bag from him.
I got up, too. However, I was still a bit dizzy and nearly slipped.
“Odette!
“Miss!”
Both of them rushed to my side, catching me before I fell.
“Didn’t you hear the doctor! You have to be careful! Even if you feel all right, your body is still weak!” my mom yelled at me.
“Sorry,” I whispered. Because truthfully, I had forgotten for a second.
I’d had allergic reactions before, but this was the worst I had ever experienced. It was partially because I didn’t just eat a Reese’s Cup. I had swallowed pure peanut extract—no, I didn’t swallow that, I was fed that.
“Come on, miss, let’s get you back to bed,” Wolfgang said, helping me walk back into the hospital room.
The second reason this was so much harder was that I had also miscarried, which was almost as hard to understand as someone trying to kill me. I found out I was pregnant after being relieved I wasn’t, only to later lose that pregnancy. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. So again, I was trying to ignore all those thoughts. But it didn’t always work. I couldn’t stop myself from thinking that all of this was insane. It reminded me of that quote, “There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen.” This week felt like a decade, and I was tired, so very tired.
“Sweetheart. Sweetheart?”
“Huh?” I shook my head, looking at my mother as she sat on the edge.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” I replied, looking around the room. “Where did Wolfgang go?”
“He stepped away while you were zoning out.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.” She took my hand, petting it slowly. “If you want to zone out or you want to cry or scream, then zone out or cry or scream. If you want to leave, then let’s leave.”