Grace:None of those, although I am tempted to give up crocheting. I did it! I submitted my application to the University of South Dakota last week. And guess what I received already!
Damon:You got accepted?
Grace:Can you believe it? I didn't expect to hear anything for weeks. I wonder if your Uncle James and the other doctors at the hospital pulled some strings or something.
Damon:Who cares? You're in! Be grateful.
Grace:I am. And I can start immediately! It's a self-paced program. I need to complete certain courses by specific dates before the on-campus clinicals and residencies. If I don't, I have to wait until the next series of clinicals are taught.
Damon:Guess this gives you something to do while your mom sleeps.
Grace:Yeah, which is all the time now.
From: Marisol Rivera
To: Damon Knight
Date: November 3
Subject: Take care of my Gracie
Dear Damon (Mijo),
I know it has been a while since I last emailed you. I'm sorry about that. I'm simply too tired to do much at all, even write a short letter. My pain keeps getting worse, so they keep increasing my meds, which makes me sleepier.
Gabe and Grace are very worried about me. I keep telling them not to be. I'm ready to meet my maker. We all know I'm not going to get better. I've accepted it, but they are having a harder time.
It calms my soul to know that Gabe has Paige to comfort him when I'm gone, and even though you are far away, I know you'll do your best to comfort Grace.
I'm so glad God brought you into her life. I have worried about her ability to open her heart and let people in. But she has let you in and I couldn't be happier.
You are good for her. You treat her so well. Take care of her. Be patient with her when she is stubborn. Be constant and steady. Don't let her push you away.
There are so many things I want to say, but it's hard to organize my thoughts and make them coherent. It has taken me three days to find the energy to write this much. So I think it best that I just close it and send it on its way.
Te amo, Mijo.
Goodbye.
Marisol (your future mother-in-law in spirit)
Damon's throatconstricted as pressure built behind his eyes. His heart felt like it was taking fire.
Goodbye?
He'd exchanged emails with Marisol almost weekly over the past two months, and she had never closed her emails like that.
She knows the end is near.
He bolted to his feet and stumbled toward the door.
"Hey, where are you going?" Chevy called.
"You need your boots, man?" King's deep voice penetrated Damon's turbulent mind.
Damon paused on the threshold and looked down at his bare feet. No one went barefoot in the desert. You never knew when a scorpion would pop out of the sand and sting you. They even put boots on to go to the latrine.
Keeping his head down, he dropped his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and retrieved his boots and a sweatshirt from his locker. Then he walked out. He couldn't stick around to put them on, because he was about to lose control of his emotions.
