"College," Autumn answers.
Ten minutes later, it's apparent Faith is high. She wants to order pizza, then changes her mind and asks for Chinese food instead. She then asks if Baskin Robbins can deliver a birthday ice cream cake.
It’s not even her birthday.
I get out my phone and call Faith's favorite spot, just glad she has an appetite again. I’ll do anything to get her weight up.
"Egg rolls," Faith calls out, even though I'm only two feet away. "Beef and broccoli. Black bean chicken. Lo Mein."
She keeps calling out dishes and I keep ordering. I pull my credit card from my wallet while Autumn clutches her waist and laughs so hard no sound comes out. I think now I can officially add spending one hundred and fifty dollars on a single order of Chinese food to the list of things I never thought I'd do in my life.
Right after that, I call Baskin Robbins and give them a sob story about Faith and that this ice cream birthday cake is her dying wish. They agree to have it delivered.
Once I’ve ordered all the food, and lectured Faith on pacing herself, I leave her and Autumn talking while I run into the house to use the bathroom. Is it really my fault that at the exact second when I pass by the kitchen, Autumn's phone that had been lying on the counter lights up with a message? I grab it with the intention of taking it to her, but when I glance down, I see it's a text from Jeanne Chapman, the old boss.
Have you given more thought to what we discussed?
My heart flipflops in my chest. There has been a discussion? The woman left a voicemail in Vegas, but clearly now there’s been a discussion.
A knock on the front door startles me and I drop the phone.
Shit.
Picking it up, I toss it on the counter and answer the door. It’s the Chinese food.
I set it on the counter and run to the bathroom like I’d originally intended. On my way back into the kitchen, there is a knock at the door again.
It’s the ice cream birthday cake, with a get-well-soon balloon. Clearly they didn't understand my message that Faith is terminal, but it’s the thought that counts.
I bring all the food to the kitchen, feeling more sober than I wish to be right now.
Reaching up, I pull plates from the cabinet, open boxes of steaming, fragrant food, and get out utensils. All the while, Autumn's phone lies there on the countertop, holding a secret.
I'm not going to listen to Autumn's voicemail, so I'm left with no choice. I have to ask her what the hell is going on.
I pull open the sliding glass door and stick my head out. "Food," I yell to Faith and Autumn.
We sit around the small table in the adjoining dining room, barely speaking as we shovel the food into our mouths. Autumn catches my eye and smiles at me, and though I manage to return the smile, my heart isn't really in it.
My heart is terrified Autumn's going to leave me behind a second time, and this time … I’m scared I won’t survive it.
Chapter 24
Autumn
I can’t believeyesterday I smoked weed with my mom and Owen, and tonight she smoked again and ordered a bunch more food. It’s amazing. She’s laughing, her appetite is up, and I think she might actually gain some weight, which Owen said could prolong her life.
I skip to the kitchen after asking my mom to pause the movie so I can make popcorn. Owen is working a late night, doing rounds at the hospital, and I’m getting just what I need. Quality time with my mom.
As I toss the popcorn in the microwave, my phone buzzes in my pocket. When I see it’s from Jeanne, I hightail it to my bedroom to talk in private.
"Hi," I say quietly, the phone pressed to my cheek. I close my bedroom door softly so I don't draw attention to what I'm doing.
"Autumn, hello. Is this a bad time?"
"No, no, it's fine," I answer, even though it's really not fine. I've already told Jeanne I don't plan to return to the city. I have no idea what I'm doing here in Sedona, but I know I can’t live without Owen. I need to tell him about Jeanne and the job offer, but I know what he will say. He'll tell me to go for it, that we can figure out logistics, that I can't pass up an offer like this. He’ll tell me to follow my dreams—the same shit my mother did when I left for college. Well, look where that got me…
Fuckingmarzipan. No way. Not leaving again.
