Thursday, March 1, 2018

Picking Up The Pieces Teaser


“Mom, can I get the purple backpack?” Grace asked. She was walking next to me as we shopped at the Walmart in Port Angeles. “It has glitter on it!”

“Let’s focus on what we need first, munchkin,” I replied. “We need to get your school supplies. Your bag from last year is just fine.”

“But, it’s so babyish,” Grace pouted. “I need a grown-up backpack. With a matching lunch box. John got a new backpack!”

“I got a new backpack because my old one was falling apart, Grace,” John snorted, rolling his eyes. “It had a hole in the bottom. Elliott dragged it across the playground on the last day of school.”

“I’ll think about the purple backpack, Grace,” I answered, tossing in a handful folders into the cart.

“Mom, I don’t like those colors,” Grace whined. “They’re ugly. They won’t match my backpack!”

“Grace, I love you, baby, but you’re trying my patience,” I said, pinching my nose. “And these folders are not for you or John. Some kids in the school don’t have a family that’s as well-off as we are. We’re lucky. We have a house, warm, clean clothes and each other. There are children that have parents that don’t have jobs or are struggling to pay their bills. So, Alice and I get school supplies for these students. The fire department and police department also have donation bins for schools for students who are struggling.”

“Why couldn’t Edward come with us?” Grace asked, her arms crossed, and her lip poked out in sullen pout.

“He’s with his mom,” I answered. “Nana Esme is not feeling very well.”

“Is she going to die, Momma?” John asked, his hand sliding into mine.

Edward and I had talked about Esme’s prognosis the morning after he agreed to move in. He said that his mom’s treatments were not working. So, her oncologist upped her meds, which made her sicker and fried her brain. When she was awake, she stared off into space and forgot a lot. She slept a lot and she was losing weight. The only thing that kept her from completely fading away was her medical marijuana. Edward mentioned that she was considering stopping her treatments and letting nature take its course. She was holding out for something, though. From the secretive looks between Edward and her, he knew what she wanted and why she was still fighting a losing battle with the most vicious thing in the world …  cancer.

Fuck cancer.

I hated cancer.

“Momma?” John whispered, shaking my arm. “Nana Esme?”

“Nana Esme’s medicine is not working as well as it could,” I answered. “She probably will die, baby.”

“I feel bad for Edward,” John said. “He loves his mom. It’s not fair. Why does this happen to the best people? Dad? Nana Esme?”

“I don’t know, John,” I said, hugging him tightly. “It’s not fair.” I kissed his forehead, being mindful of the still-healing bruise on his temple. “Come on. Let’s get this finished. Edward’s coming over for dinner tonight and I want to make something special for us as a family.”


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