Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
By the time I arrive home, my somewhat good mood is in the dumps. Living in this house is awkward and uncomfortable, with Brenda hovering and Brad milking us dry. The only reprieve I get is at night, when it’s just Ben and me, in our room. Often, we lie on our sides and just look at each other, letting our souls do all the talking. He’s hurting and I hurt for him.
Inside, Brad’s on the couch, thankfully with clothes on, and playing a video game. I swear, someday he’s going to find the console missing. He doesn’t say anything when I walk past, which is shocking because it’s usually shit like, “the bathroom is out of toilet paper” or “there aren’t any dishes.” I’m a convenience to him because if I’m here, he knows Ben will be taken care of, which in turn, takes care of Brad.
I look all over the house for Ben but can’t find him. I’m frustrated because he didn’t text me that he was leaving and now I have to ask his brother where he went. “Do you know where Ben is?”
Brad never takes his eyes off the television and mutters, “Beach.”
Perfect, the same place I go to when I need peace and quiet. I head outside and toward the beach. As soon as my feet touch the sand, I slip my shoes off and trudge toward the shore. Surfers and swimmers clutter the water, while umbrellas, blankets, towels, and those popular sun tents take up most of the sandy beach space.
It takes me a few minutes, but I find Ben, sitting in the sand with his ankle strap still secured and his board next to him. I sit down and pull my knees to my chest. “Did you surf?”
“Thought about it.”
I don’t bother telling him he’s not supposed to do any strenuous activities for another three weeks, and he has to be cleared by the urologist first. He doesn’t need a lecture. He needs a friend. “Water looks choppy.”
“I figured today would be my last day to surf.”
“The surgeon will clear you in three weeks. You’ll be good to go.”
“I’ll be sick.”
“I know.” I sigh. Ben knows the chemo and radiation are going to wreck his body. He’s going to be weak, tired, and unwilling to eat because everything will taste gross or not have any flavor at all.
He’s going to be sick. He’s going to puke his guts out, and then puke some more. He’s going to bruise easily, need blood transfusions, and we have to monitor who is around him. If they’re sick, they can’t come near him. Brad and Brenda don’t know this, but while we’re at chemo today, I have a service coming in and cleaning the house from top to bottom. There will be new rules in place, and if they don’t like them . . . well I won’t be sad to see them leave. Unfortunately, Brenda’s current lack of a job and housing puts me in a tough spot, and I’d have to put her up somewhere, but Brad can go back to his place, and his garage. He has a viable job and a garage to run. I understand his brother is going through a life-changing event, but his moody outlook isn’t needed. Ben needs to be surrounded by light and positivity. I want him to see the future and feel like he has more than a fighting chance. Brad parked on our couch isn’t doing Ben any favors.
“I guess it’s time to go, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say, sadly. I don’t want him to have to go through this any more than he wants to. Ben stands and reaches for my hand to help me up, and then his board. I expect him to let go of me, but he doesn’t. Together, we walk back to the house, and I wait for him while he stores his board on the rack. “Do you want to take a shower before we go?”
He shakes his head. “The smell of sun and sand comforts me.”
“Me too,” I tell him.
On the drive over, we listen to the radio. Plum’s song, “Last Day,” comes on and I can’t help but smile and turn the volume dial up. My head starts bobbing while my finger taps the steering wheel. When it’s over, my smile turns into the biggest grin possible when the DJ talks about the girls and how they’re the next big thing.
“Is that your new band?” Ben asks.
“One of them, yes. They call themselves Plum. I wasn’t sold on the name at first, but it’s grown on me and now I love it.”
“That was a really great song.”
“Justine wrote it. I have an acoustic version up on the streaming sites. She’s a brilliant songwriter. Quinn really enjoys working with her, as well as Wynonna and Priscilla, who are sisters.”