Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“A wedding on Christmas Eve, no less,” he teases me as I open my locker and toss the box of cookies in my bag, “you must be dying.”
“The only thing I know about the wedding,” I inform him, “is the color of my dress. Which is a bright red and not green—thank God for that—and that it’s open bar.” He laughs at me. “And that I’m going to be seeing all my family. So liking two out of three isn’t bad.”
“I’m afraid to ask which one it is you don’t like.” He shuts his locker and nods at me. “I can’t wait to see pictures.”
“I’ll be sure to post them on social media right away,” I joke with him.
“The last thing you posted on social media was two years ago and it was you at the beach with some of your cousins.”
“I’ve been busy.” I take off my stethoscope from around my neck and put it in my jacket pocket before shrugging it off, as he opens the door and leaves me alone. The Christmas music plays softly from the little speaker in the corner and I have to wonder if it’s on loop somewhere just to drive me crazy. Once my shift is over, I’m out the door. Some like to sit and relax, some even shower here, but I’m always ready to be home as soon as possible.
Gayle is walking out at the same time. Her lunch box is in one hand and her purse is in the other as we walk out of the emergency room and into the sun. “It’s going to be a hot one,” she observes. “See you tonight.”
“Two more days with me, Gayle,” I tell her, “and then what will you do without me?”
“Enjoy singing Christmas songs without being told to shut up.” She side-eyes me and I laugh as I walk to my car. The phone rings as soon as I get behind the wheel.
“Good morning, Mother,” I greet as the phone connects to the Bluetooth. “Shouldn’t you be in bed or, I don’t know, winding down.”
“There is so much to do for the wedding still.” She ignores my sarcasm. “Anyway, are you packed?”
“Mom, I leave in two days,” I tell her, “that’s a tomorrow problem, or an if-I-can-push-it-to-the-day-I-leave problem.”
“Why are you waiting until the last minute?”
“Mom.” I scan my pass and wait for the barrio to open. “I’m coming home, if I forget anything, I’m sure I can get it there.”
“Ugh,” she huffs, “whatever. I’ll call you tomorrow night to check in.”
“Or how about I just see you in three days?”
“Whatever,” she repeats and hangs up the phone on me.
I pull up my brother Joshua’s number and he answers after one ring. “What are you doing to our mother?” I ask him and he laughs.
“She’s acting like I’m the first of her kids to get married. Jack got married and she was fine.”
“No, she wasn’t,” I snap out. “She cried for about a month straight. She had to keep putting ice cubes on her bottom eyelids and we made fun of her for it, don’t you remember? She said if you made fun of her one more time, she would kick you where the sun doesn’t shine and you’d need your own ice cubes.”
“Oh yeah.” His deep laugh fills the phone. “I told her whatever is going to happen will happen.”
“That’s the worst thing to tell our mother,” I bite at him. “It’s like you don’t even know her.”
“I just don’t want her to stress. Instead of her not stressing, she’s big-time stressing and that is stressing me out. It’s stressing Macy out”—he mentions his fiancée’s name—“and Mom’s calling Jack and now he’s coming to me and I’m going to Dad. It’s a vicious cycle.”
“And people want to know why I live on the other side of the world.”
“Tomorrow we are going to have brunch with her and tell her to lay off a bit.” I snort, laughing when he says this.
“Can you please videotape it? I’ve never actually seen steam come out of Mom’s ears in real time. I’ve heard about it like a myth, but I’ve never seen it live.”
“You really think she’s going to freak out?”
“You really think she’s not going to freak out?” I laugh. “That’s an amateur move. Her baby is getting married.”
“One, I’m not even the baby of the family; you are. Two, I’m not dying,” he clarifies. “Anyway, I have to go and calm Macy down because she has been nursing a bottle of wine all night long.”
“Maybe she’s having second thoughts,” I joke with him and he growls at me. “See you soon,” I say and hang up the phone as I make my way home.
Two days fly by and I’m waking up at 4:00 a.m. to pack my suitcases right before I have to leave to get to the airport. I park in the long-term parking lot. Grabbing my checked bag and then putting my carry-on on top of it, I slowly make my way into the airport.