Not Looking For Love: Episode 2 Read Online Free
Author: Lena Bourne
me.
"About the same," she answers, but I can hear the lie. The clear autumn air mixes with the feeling of deep longing and homesickness coursing through me, ripping me to shreds.
I'm beside her, crying into her hand, feeling like I've flown to her side, not walked. She's stroking my hair with her free hand, but I barely feel her touch.
"Gail, honey, remember when Grandpa died," Mom asks, and a sob catches in my throat. "You were so sad you wouldn't stop crying for days. I was too. But then it passed and it's alright now. That's just how I think it will be when I die. The pain will pass in time."
My mom's voice hitches and she sobs loudly. It turns into a vicious cough in an instant, made worse by the tears running down her face.
I straighten up and wipe her tears away with my fingers, even managing a small smile as I wait for the coughing to subside. She's trying to make me feel better and I should let her, I must let her. The pain squeezing my chest is so strong it's making me numb. It's as though I'm not even in the room.
"Don't worry about me, Mom," I hear myself saying. "I will be just fine. I promise."
I hope she can't hear the lie, because the dark, bottomless abyss is all around me, and soon it will be all there is.
She nods at me and smiles, then lies back. I nestle in beside her, my forehead against her arm. Edna comes in with my coffee a few minutes later, but I feign sleep and she just sets it on the nightstand and leaves.
I don't remember falling asleep, but the clock on the nightstand reads 4:06 PM so I must have. The doorbell startles me. I close my eyes, hoping Edna won't bother getting the door.
"It's Scott again," Edna whispers into my ear.
"Tell him to stop coming," I say.
"Maybe you should go yourself," she suggests.
"Please, Edna." I don't want to see Scott ever again. He was just a mistake and I feel so much worse now for having made it.
Edna sighs and leaves. She returns a few minutes later, telling me she must change my mom's sheets and give her the medicine.
I take another hot shower while I wait for her to finish. I come out to find Kate's text saying she's with Mark in the city, but we should do something Saturday. I text back, OK, though I have no intention of going out this weekend.
Dad's lying down next to Mom when I peek back into her room, holding her hand, his eyes closed. I slip the door shut before he notices me standing there. The sun is shining outside, but I hear thunder in the distance. Longing and homesickness follow me down the stairs and into the kitchen, congealing into a menacing, black presence breathing down my neck. I run to my car to escape it all, go lose myself in the rushing waves and cascading sands of the beach, my last remaining refuge.
I drive down to the beach near my house, not the one where I ran into Scott on the pier. Despite the sun shining, it is chilly, and the only people at the beach are a group of teenagers, and an old lady with her straw hat tied to her head by a white silk scarf. She reminds me of Gran, which sends a new stab of pain through my heart. I should go see her soon, but the thought of sharing grief with her is unbearable right now, so I let it go.
The sand is damp, and my flats are leaving little crosses in it as I walk along, right where the surf licks the beach. I move closer to the water, looking back to see the waves wipe away my prints. My mom will be gone soon, just like this, leaving no trace. Then one day I will be gone too, leaving just as little behind. Yet this beach will still be here. And another Gail, her mom dying too, might walk this same path then. I don't wish her to have to, but it can happen regardless, just as it happened to my mom and me.
"Gail," Scott calls me.
He's running toward me, but I whip around and run too, away from him.
"Wait."
"No!" I yell back over my shoulder.
But he's faster and catches me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Like he's tackling me, soft like
"About the same," she answers, but I can hear the lie. The clear autumn air mixes with the feeling of deep longing and homesickness coursing through me, ripping me to shreds.
I'm beside her, crying into her hand, feeling like I've flown to her side, not walked. She's stroking my hair with her free hand, but I barely feel her touch.
"Gail, honey, remember when Grandpa died," Mom asks, and a sob catches in my throat. "You were so sad you wouldn't stop crying for days. I was too. But then it passed and it's alright now. That's just how I think it will be when I die. The pain will pass in time."
My mom's voice hitches and she sobs loudly. It turns into a vicious cough in an instant, made worse by the tears running down her face.
I straighten up and wipe her tears away with my fingers, even managing a small smile as I wait for the coughing to subside. She's trying to make me feel better and I should let her, I must let her. The pain squeezing my chest is so strong it's making me numb. It's as though I'm not even in the room.
"Don't worry about me, Mom," I hear myself saying. "I will be just fine. I promise."
I hope she can't hear the lie, because the dark, bottomless abyss is all around me, and soon it will be all there is.
She nods at me and smiles, then lies back. I nestle in beside her, my forehead against her arm. Edna comes in with my coffee a few minutes later, but I feign sleep and she just sets it on the nightstand and leaves.
I don't remember falling asleep, but the clock on the nightstand reads 4:06 PM so I must have. The doorbell startles me. I close my eyes, hoping Edna won't bother getting the door.
"It's Scott again," Edna whispers into my ear.
"Tell him to stop coming," I say.
"Maybe you should go yourself," she suggests.
"Please, Edna." I don't want to see Scott ever again. He was just a mistake and I feel so much worse now for having made it.
Edna sighs and leaves. She returns a few minutes later, telling me she must change my mom's sheets and give her the medicine.
I take another hot shower while I wait for her to finish. I come out to find Kate's text saying she's with Mark in the city, but we should do something Saturday. I text back, OK, though I have no intention of going out this weekend.
Dad's lying down next to Mom when I peek back into her room, holding her hand, his eyes closed. I slip the door shut before he notices me standing there. The sun is shining outside, but I hear thunder in the distance. Longing and homesickness follow me down the stairs and into the kitchen, congealing into a menacing, black presence breathing down my neck. I run to my car to escape it all, go lose myself in the rushing waves and cascading sands of the beach, my last remaining refuge.
I drive down to the beach near my house, not the one where I ran into Scott on the pier. Despite the sun shining, it is chilly, and the only people at the beach are a group of teenagers, and an old lady with her straw hat tied to her head by a white silk scarf. She reminds me of Gran, which sends a new stab of pain through my heart. I should go see her soon, but the thought of sharing grief with her is unbearable right now, so I let it go.
The sand is damp, and my flats are leaving little crosses in it as I walk along, right where the surf licks the beach. I move closer to the water, looking back to see the waves wipe away my prints. My mom will be gone soon, just like this, leaving no trace. Then one day I will be gone too, leaving just as little behind. Yet this beach will still be here. And another Gail, her mom dying too, might walk this same path then. I don't wish her to have to, but it can happen regardless, just as it happened to my mom and me.
"Gail," Scott calls me.
He's running toward me, but I whip around and run too, away from him.
"Wait."
"No!" I yell back over my shoulder.
But he's faster and catches me, wrapping his arms around my waist. Like he's tackling me, soft like
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