Hand of Thorns Read Online Free Page B

dad had bought it last Christmas in case I had decided to dorm somewhere for college. I pull out some yogurt and Sprite then settle on my bed with my laptop, opening it to do more research on the subject. The more I think about it and the more I keep seeing the numbers pop up on my computer screen, the more I become obsessed with the idea.
    Nearly an hour later a knock sounds at the door. Mom pops her head in, so I close the computer, not wanting her to see anything I've written down. Her face looks more worn than normal. Dad's death has done a serious number on her, and I wouldn't be surprised if I had to force her into rehab sometime sooner rather than later.
    "Hi, sweetie," she chimes in. Her voice raspy. "Did you have a good day with Sumner?"
    "I did."
    "Good." She comes over to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around my room. She doesn't come in here often. I'm nervous for what her reasoning is. "What did you two do?"
    "Grabbed some food, did some window shopping, and got our piggies done." I wiggle my toes in her direction to show her my freshly painted pink nails.
    She runs her hand over one of my toes, her hands freezing cold. I jolt, bringing my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. Her hand remains on my bedspread while she looks past me to the window. With a deep sigh, she mutters, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I haven't been the mother you need."
    I'm not sure what exactly to say. It's okay? It hasn't been, but I've learned to live with it. I can't quite say that either, so I nod my head slowly, while trying to conjure a way to roll it off my shoulders. "Don't worry about it," I choose to tell her.
    "No, I've been wrong. You needed me and I've been... distant. My doctor recommended a grieving counselor, but I told her I don't want to do the one on one, so I'm going to start a group therapy. I start tomorrow night at United Methodist Church, then this upcoming week I’m going to start going to Narcotics anonymous. Do you want to come with me, to the grieving group that is?"
    "Um, not really." I sort of hate saying no, but I really don't want to join. It's not much different than my friends all trying to get me to open up about everything. "But I'm proud of you for going."
    She looks down at my blanket, running her hand back and forth over the thread. "That's okay, I thought I'd offer. I won't be home from six to eight, but I'll leave dinner in the oven for you."
    "Thank you, Mom." I guess I could give her an A for effort, as she hasn't even cooked dinner once since his passing.
    Mom simply nods her head, still not looking at me. While clearing her throat, she stands up, running her hands over her shirt to smooth out the wrinkles that aren't even present. "Okay, well. Have a good night. Love you."
    While she heads towards the door, I tell her I love her, too. Then she closes the door behind her. When I open the computer again, I decide that I'm done distracting my brain with the surrogacy stuff. I doubt I'll even go through with it, I just hate seeing my future disappear due to being broke.

Chapter Three
May 22 nd
    "Ms. Rockwell, the doctor is ready to see you now."
    I look up to the nurse dressed in all pink scrubs. Placing down my magazine, I walk after her down the hall.
    "Right in here." She points to the room. Walking in, I place my purse down on the chair then stand on the scale while she measures my weight. Then I walk over to sit down on the bench. She takes my blood pressure and temperature, writes everything down, then with a smile says, "Everything looks great. He'll be right in."
    "Thank you," I mutter.
    Glancing around the room, I look at the different images on the wall. I've never been to a gynecologist before. It's usually my primary care doctor that takes care of all my business. After two solid weeks of looking into every single detail of becoming a surrogate mother, I realized that I do in fact want to become one, however, I want medical advice on it before I take that final approach.