Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“What would you prefer?”
“Just Connor, please.”
Cedrick smiles. “Of course, Connor.”
If Mildred was with me, they’d all be smiling. “Do we have strawberries?”
“Yes, Connor, would you like some?”
“Not now, but they’re M—Dred’s favorite, so maybe something with strawberries for breakfast.”
Ethel beams. “I’ll browse my recipes.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Connor.”
I leave the kitchen, feeling like I’ve at least made some progress with the staff. I pass through the breezeway, and the cool evening air is a reminder that long sleeves will be mandatory soon as I rap on Meems’s door before I enter. The lights are on, but the living room is empty.
“Meems?” It’s not even seven. I check the four seasons room with a view of the expansive backyard and her favorite gardens, but she’s not there, either.
“Meems, you in there?” I knock on her bedroom door, but still no response. Panic hits, swift and cutting like a blade. The emotions sweep through me before I can corral them, nearly taking me to my knees.
I push the door open, heart hammering in my chest. Meems is in bed, still and tiny. She seemed okay earlier. What if… Please don’t let her be gone.
I’m not ready to be without her. I’m not ready for a world in which she doesn’t exist. She’s the only person in my family who understands me, the only one who has always been on my side. But it’s more than that. If I lose Meems, I have to let Mildred go, and I don’t want to yet.
I cross the room, begging a God I’ve never put faith in not to take Meems away from me for wildly selfish reasons.
Meems’s back expands and contracts, quelling the panic. For now.
There will come a day when my fears are reality. I know that, even if I don’t want it to be true.
I kneel beside her bed and press my lips to her forehead. She’s cool, no fever. Thank God.
She stirs, and I pull back, wishing her body was strong enough to withstand surgery. Maybe more time with Mildred will get her there. Maybe she can heal us both. Give her more time, please.
“Connor?” Her warm, soft palm presses against my cheek. “What time is it?”
“Seven.” I take her frail hand and kiss the back of it. “You feeling okay?”
“I laid down after dinner because I was tired. I was only supposed to sleep for half an hour.”
“It’s okay. If you’re tired, you’re tired, Meems.”
“I am.” She nods groggily. “So tired these days.”
We were warned this could happen. Her heart is working so hard. Too hard. “Maybe we should make a doctor’s appointment.”
“I’m tired of those, too.”
“I know, but I need you to be healthy so you can see me get married.” The sooner the better. I need to talk to Mildred about the timeline.
“Dred is so good for you.” She smiles. “Where is she?”
“In the house. We finished dinner a while ago.” She was sweet, and I was my asshole self. “You want me to read to you tonight?”
“Maybe just a page or two. Don’t skip any of the good parts.”
At least her sense of humor is still intact. “I won’t, Meems.” I grab the book from the nightstand and sit on the edge of her bed. She settles back against her pillows with a sigh.
I only manage to read one page before she’s asleep again. I replace the bookmark and rub my cheek, the one Mildred’s lips were pressed against briefly when she called me out on my own self-loathing. “I don’t know how to talk to Mildred when you’re not around,” I admit. “I need you to stay so I can get better at it.”
I kiss her cheek and turn off the light. On the way back, I stop in the staff quarters and ask Cedrick to check on Meems before he goes home for the night. I walk down to my office to tackle a few emails, including a request for an update on Mildred’s apartment.
The back rent has been handled, so she’s no longer at risk of being evicted. But I want to solve the problem indefinitely, and the best way to do that is to make her the owner rather than the renter of the apartment. However, the new owner is resistant to selling the unit. From a financial standpoint, I understand. It’s a high-end building, and the rentals generate more income over time. But everyone has a price. It’s just a matter of figuring out what it is.
It’s closing in on ten by the time I leave the office. I pause outside Mildred’s bedroom door. Her light is still on. I should apologize for making dinner uncomfortable.
I knock, but don’t get a response. Seems to be a trend tonight.
I try again, but still nothing, so I resort to texting. No buzz comes from the other side of the door, though. She’s probably in the library.