“Why the hell would you tell me all of this today? Of all days?”
We should be working together and focusing our attention on my dad, but now all I can think about is the fact that everything I thought I knew about my parents is wrong. “I’m done talking about this. What’s happening back there.” I point to the doors that lead to the emergency rooms. “That’s what I’m focusing on.”
“Of course you’re going to change the subject.” Candy says with a smirk. “It’s what you do when you can’t cope with real life.”
She’s right. That’s exactly what I do.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Life As I Know It
How long can someone stay in bed without people noticing?
Answer?
Four days.
At least in the Munsel family.
My sisters figured out something was amiss after two days, but I did my best to put them off with text messages. When they’d try to call, I’d text a reply that I was knee-deep in work and that I didn’t have time to talk.
An excuse like that can only last so long. Take the incessant knocking on my front door as proof of that.
Knocking that’s forcing me to crawl out of my sad bed and walk to my front door dragging my feet, literally. Peeking through the little peephole, I see them. All three of them. “What?” I shout through the wooden door rather than opening it.
“Let us in.”
“I’m sick.” Cough, cough, cough.
I’m not lying. I’m sick. Or I have been. I’ve had body aches and a low-grade fever for days. It feels like the flu.It’s why I haven’t been over to see to my dad. He’s still weak, and I’m afraid what would happen if he caught this.
“That’s okay. I’m sure you’re not contagious.”
I can’t tell who’s speaking because—door.
I fake cough again. “I’m highly contagious. I’ll call you when I’m better.”
“Open this fucking door right now, Colette.” I think that was Candy.
“Or we’ll fucking break it down.” Nope,thatwas said by Candy. Connie must’ve said the first threat. And what are they, the big bad wolves? I snicker to myself thinking about it.
“We mean it.” Oh, goodie. It’s Carla’s turn to say her piece.
I can’t help thinking about the children’s story. I’m tempted to ask if they’re going to “huff and puff” to get the door down.
“No can do, ladies.” Because the last thing I want right now is for the three of them to see my place—or me for that matter—in its current state. “Very sick.”
“If you don’t open up, I’m telling Mom and Dad.”
Again, I don’t know who’s speaking, but it causes my smirk to fall from my face and my mind to go back to the day of his surgery. Sure, I spoke to him in his room after he awoke. I feel bile rise in my throat at the memory. He was so pale and weak. I’d never seen him so vulnerable. I did my best not to think about what my sisters told me. I forced myself to forget about it, for the time being.
I shake my head, trying to get the thoughts from that day out of my skull. It’s gotten very quiet on my porch. “Surely they didn’t leave.” It’s not like them to give up so easily. Peeking through the peephole again, I’m shocked and, frankly, a little disappointed they didn’t try harder. “They’re gone.”
Turning, I’m about to head back to bed when I see movement at my patio door. “Fuck.” They’re standing at the glass door, staring at me. All three have big smiles on their faces. There’s only one way they could’ve gotten back there, and that’s through my neighbor’s place. Which means my sisters knocked on his door and got him involved. It’s obviously why Sam is with them. Sam, who I haven’t seen since the day I went to the laundromat.
It hasn’t been for lack of trying on his part. I’m just not sure I’m ready to talk to him—if I’ll ever be ready to talk to him. There’s too many questions rolling around in my head about him now. Are we compatible? Can I trust him? Myself?
Trust.
