Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“I understand, but if a doctor knows that—and I’m guessing you do—then why wouldn’t they just hold him overnight upfront when changing the meds? That seems better than sending him home and just waiting for something to go wrong.”
“I’ll talk to the rest of the team and see if that’s an option for future changes,” she says.
“Thank you.” I look beside her to Maisy.
My heart breaks a little more.
She’s so small, hugging herself and barely breathing.
“Let’s get some real food in you, sis. You’ll feel better after you eat.”
I lead her down to the cafeteria where we order grilled cheese sandwiches and fries. We’ve been here enough times to know it’s one of the few decent options that doesn’t taste like cardboard.
“Well, do you think he’s actually going to be okay this time or are you just doing the brave big sister thing?” Maisy asks, eyeing me intently.
“I do, Mais. I’m sorry you were alone when it happened, but thank God you found him.”
She shrugs. “It’s fine. You can’t always be at home.”
Guilt knifes me in the belly.
I’m the oldest daughter.
It’s my job to take the brunt of this, but Maisy hates it when I remind her. This conversation is already hard enough.
“How freaked out were you?” I ask quietly.
“Um, freaked. I thought he was dying! His pulse was so faint, Pippy. Like barely there. I think he flatlined twice in the a-ambulance. Even though the medics swore his heart didn’t stop.” Her voice quivers.
I take a deep breath, bracing for what’s next.
There’s no easy way to say this.
“I’ve got some good news and bad news,” I say.
She blinks at me, her pale-green eyes a shade lighter than mine. “Um, you mean there’s more besides finding Dad passed out on the floor?”
The sigh rattles my shoulders. “Maisy, I’m suspending the pipe dream of paying all our bills with my travel stuff for now. Dad’s new medicine is really expensive and this is like the fourth emergency stay this year. Overnight hospital stays are like ten thousand dollars a pop. Most of that’s covered, but still... There are holes in the insurance. Never mind the furnace sounding funky and that plumbing bill from winter we’re still paying off. We were already strapped for cash—”
“Pippa, no!” She covers her ears for a second, her hair flapping from side to side. “You can’t just quit because Dad’s sick. I mean, what else is new? It’s not fair for you to support all three of us when I’m seventeen and I can get a job—”
“I’m not supporting all three of us,” I say. “Dad still has his pension and disability. But it takes a lot to keep the house running and cover unexpected bills. You can’t mention this to him, Maisy. If you do, he’ll quit taking the pills. You know how stubborn he is. He won’t let us support him.”
She purses her lips. “Who does he think was keeping us out of collections?”
I wince. “Ehhh...I might have told him his VA insurance was covering incidentals. We’re lucky he hates paperwork.”
“Scandalous!” She makes a shocked face, her hands pressed to her cheeks, suddenly the bright-eyed kid I love again. “But you’re serious about your online stuff? You’re just gonna drop it?”
I rub my temples before I answer.
“We’ll call it a hiatus. I just need a steady check for a while. Six months, whatever. The good news is, I won’t be gone on weekends as much with the job I have in mind, so you should be able to do things then—”
“Yeah? What’s the bad news?”
I pause as cold reality sinks in, numbing me like an ice bath.
“I might be working until at least five o’clock some days, so I’ll need you to come home right after school. You don’t necessarily have to stay, but it might be better if you did. I just need you to make sure he’s okay, and text me if he isn’t.”
“I can do that. I come home after school anyway unless I have track or lit club, and the discussions are mostly online.” Her face sinks and she gives me a long look. “But Pippa, I’ve watched you build up your channels for years. You were making money—”
“Not enough,” I whisper.
“Ugh! I just hate to see you give up to take care of us. And I... I always thought maybe if you could do it, then maybe someday I could too,” she says.
That last part guts me.
“You want to be a travel influencer? I had no clue.”
“Not necessarily. I just want to do something cool and be successful. Like it’s nice knowing it’s even possible to do your own thing.”
“It’s not the end. I’m just taking a break. If everything lines up, I’ll still technically be in travel marketing. Jenn told me about a job at Winthrope headquarters downtown. Unless my recent review is some weird conflict of interest or something, I’m sure she’ll help me get it. Real money like that doesn’t grow on trees here in Seattle, and it has actual benefits.”