Page 95 of Make it Real
My heart crumpled at the thought. I would take on the farm—wantedthe farm—but I didn’t want to have to do it on my own yet.
Callie parked at my house, and we walked up my steps, her hand locked in mine. Wasn’t sure I’d let her go for more than a few seconds since she’d showed up at the hospital. She’d saved me there, giving me the strength to pull myself together before I’d tumbled straight over the edge.
I opened the door and let us inside.
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
Like it’d been waiting for someone to remember it, my stomach growled. Almost nine at night, and I hadn’t had a bite since noon.
“I could eat. There’s not much in the fridge, though.”
Wasn’t much in the house at all. Strange time to notice, but this place didn’t feel like a home. Not the way Callie’s did. Always thinking I’d be on the move again one day, I hadn’t made it mine. No life, no color, no heart.
All except for the woman who watched me with something like love in those big brown eyes.
She ran a hand over my upper arm, comforting and reassuring. My breath slowed like she’d worked magic on me.
“Why don’t you take a shower, and I’ll order us some food. Chinese okay?”
“Okay.” I walked toward the short hallway between bedrooms, but turned back like I needed to be sure she hadn’t left already. She smiled and set to looking something up on her phone. Probably dinner. I followed her instructions and took a shower.
I let the water run over me longer than I normally would have. Soaped up, lathered my hair, scrubbed. Cried a little, too—relief and exhaustion and just straight up emotional overwhelm needing a minute of release.
Pop had a heart attack.
But he’s going to be okay.
But he had a heart attack.
The hot water soothed my muscles, and if it couldn’t soothe my heart, at least it cleared my head a bit. The greasy dread from the hospital washed away, and my thoughts rearranged into something less ominous. It wasn’t much, but for now, that would be enough.
I dried off and slipped on a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. In the kitchen, Callie pulled plates from a cupboard. The house smelled of noodles and beef, and I spotted two takeout containers on the counter.
“That got here fast.”
Her smile hit me in that achy part of my chest that’d been through the wringer today, working like a salve to soothe the fears that fought to rise up again.
“I don’t think it’s their busy time. I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered noodles and rice with two kinds of meat.” She opened the containers, releasing even more of their delicious smells. My mouth watered, and my stomach twisted in its eagerness to be filled.
“Sounds perfect.”
I sank into a dining chair in a semi-daze, watching her load up my plate like that was the limit of what I could do. Should have helped her, should have offered to do anything at all, but I sat like I’d been glued down. She set the plate in front of me and squeezed my shoulder.
“Eat.”
Her soft command got my limbs moving, and I did as she said. I shoveled in food, barely stringing two thoughts together while she served up her own meal and joined me. I’d almost finished my plate before the meat and carbs started to bring my brain back online.
“Thank you.” Wasn’t flowery, but my brain wasn’t so fired up I could be more elaborate.
“You’re welcome.”
When we’d finished eating, she took care of the dishes and put the leftovers in the fridge. I stood from the table, but paused like I didn’t know the next steps. Panic still hovered over me, and I wasn’t sure how long I could keep it at bay.
She ran her hands up and down my arms. “What do you need?”
Just you.Not the time to say it, but the only right answer.
“I should probably sleep, but I don’t know if that’s happening.”
