Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
My breath caught. I processed that for a few moments, and then I looked up at him and said, “I always knew it was an accident, and now I finally have something I can point to that might have been the cause. I know it’s just a theory, but my mom would make random comments sometimes about her heart racing. It could have been the same thing that I have.”
Miller nodded. “It makes sense to me.”
As tears welled up in my eyes, I murmured, “It’s wild how your entire perspective can change in an instant.”
In the morning, Miller knocked on the office door, and I sat up and pushed the hair out of my face. When I muttered something that sounded vaguely like words, he opened the door and asked, “Did I wake you?”
Yes. Totally. “No, I was up.”
“Daria’s picking me up in a minute. I wanted to let you know the mechanic will be here at ten, so please let him in.”
“No problem.”
“There are bagels and fresh orange juice in the kitchen. Help yourself, and text me if you need anything.”
“Okay. Thanks, Miller.”
After he left, I hung the heart monitor around my neck like a tacky necklace and trudged to the bathroom before making my way to the kitchen. It felt strange to rattle around Miller’s house on my own. It also showed a hell of a lot of trust on his part. But then, what was I going to do, steal some moving boxes and big-ass computer monitors? Not likely.
He texted me about an hour later to tell me his meeting with HR had gone off without a hitch, and my benefits would be kicking in tomorrow. That should have been good news, but it made my stomach knot up, because it meant I didn’t have an excuse to delay my surgery.
At ten sharp, the mechanic and his assistant arrived in a huge tow truck. It took them less than fifteen minutes to assess the situation and separate the two vehicles. They did it by cranking up my van with a jack, then rolling Miller’s car forward about eight inches, until its bumper was out from under mine. It was so simple that I was embarrassed we hadn’t thought of it.
Next, they hooked up the van to the tow truck, told me they’d have the brakes done by Wednesday, and handed me a business card. As I stood there watching them haul away my home and most of my worldly possessions, I felt more adrift than I ever had in my entire life.
9
Miller
I had to quit it with the constant hovering. It was Tuesday, and Collie’s surgery was scheduled for Thursday. We both knew he was okay, because he was wearing a heart monitor all day, every day, and it hadn’t alerted him to any problems. Still, I felt compelled to check on him a lot. I also found myself pestering him to make sure he was eating, hydrating, and generally taking care of himself.
It was too much. I got that. After he had surgery, he really would need me to take care of him. But he didn’t need it now, so I knew I needed to dial it back a notch.
Even so, before bed that night I found myself saying, “I’m planning to spend most of tomorrow at the studio, since I’m taking a few days off after your surgery. If you need anything at all, call or text me and I can come right home. Unless it’s a medical emergency. In that case, dial 911.”
“I’ll be fine, Miller.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because you literally just explained 911 to me like I’m five.”
I ignored that and told him, “I’m going to leave work by four tomorrow, so I can pick up your van. It’s supposed to be done by then.”
“I can pick it up.”
“You shouldn’t be driving. What if you pass out behind the wheel?”
“That’s not going to happen,” he said. “I have this heart monitor, but even without it I know the warning signs now, and what to watch for. If I start to feel any sort of irregular heartbeat, I can pull over and wait until it passes.”
“You’d be taking an unnecessary risk, and endangering not just yourself but everyone else on the road.”
He muttered, “I hate the fact that you have a point.”
“So, you won’t drive? You promise?”
Collie held up his hand and made some sort of gesture. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout, were you?”
“What gave me away?”
“You just signed the letter ‘K’ in ASL.”
He frowned at me. “Because of course, you were a scout.”
“I was. I made it to Eagle.”
“That’s good, right?”
“The best.”
I couldn’t tell if he was serious when he asked, “Are there other birds leading up to Eagle? Like, do you start as a swallow scout, then a pigeon, then a peacock?”