Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 68576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Then she walked out of my life and didn’t look back.
I don’t understand why couples do three month anniversary posts. I’ve had cups in my room longer than that.
—Pepper’s secret thoughts
PEPPER
1 year ago
“She said not to call her or she’d disown us,” my brother, Tarrant, said. “I know this is big, but this could turn into a fucking huge thing. Maybe we should get Dad to try?”
That was an immediate no.
Dad wouldn’t be able to accomplish anything more with our sister than I would. Worse, he’d just be confused about why, and I couldn’t do that to him.
I turned to my brother, staring him dead in the eyes, and said, “She told me not to call her while she finds herself. But Tarrant, our mother just fucking died. What, exactly, are you wanting me to do? Not tell her? It’s just our fucking luck. We’ll heed her wishes, not tell her, and then she’ll freakin’ freak. I’m in a shit situation. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”
“Personally,” Tarrant answered, “I think we should fuckin’ write her off.”
I’d been saying that for fifteen years, and only now they wanted to listen and follow through?
I looked at my brother. “We can’t do that.”
He knew why we couldn’t do that.
Mom had a dying wish.
One.
To try one more time with Sage.
And I didn’t care what I had to do.
“It’s been two years, Pepper,” Tarrant said. “I’m not sure that we can do anything else but give her what she wants. She wanted to be left alone. She didn’t want to hear from Mom, or you, or me, or Everest. Hell, she won’t even answer Coke’s calls anymore.”
Uncle Coke was a great guy.
The only problem was, Coke wasn’t in the trenches like we were. He didn’t know all the bad, ugly things that we did when it came to Sage Solomon.
“Then I guess I’ll have to go find her,” I said as I finished packing my things. “Like I’ve already explained to you.”
Tarrant sighed, long and loud. “Does Everest know?”
Nope.
That would be my first stop tomorrow.
Though I’d have to drive an hour and a half to talk with him.
At least it’d be in the direction that I was going.
After the Air Force Academy, then years in the Air Force, Tarrant had moved back home to Kilgore, where he worked in the weapons industry for a company in Longview, Texas.
Everest, however, was stationed in Fort Hood in the Army, but he was on leave for Mom’s funeral, and staying at his wife’s parents’ place in Canton before he had to get back to base at the end of his bereavement leave.
“Let me know what he says,” Tarrant grumbled.
I dropped face first on my bed the moment he left the room, and contemplated whether I was making the right decision or not.
The funeral had been hard.
The days after, when I realized I couldn’t call my mom with every little thought that popped into my head, were even harder.
I pulled out my phone and toggled to my mom’s text thread.
Today’s unread text message made my heart hurt.
Me:
Do you think that I can get a doctor’s appointment today?
Me:
How bad do you think it would be to mix my sleep medication with Benadryl? It says that it’ll give me hallucinogenic thoughts.
Me:
I hate this.
I’d sent the first two text messages on auto pilot, not remembering that my mom had died five days ago. The last text had come from me only after I realized I was waiting for a text message that wouldn’t come.
I couldn’t help but replay the last words my mom had ever said to me.
“In my next life, baby, I’ll give you a sign.”
“What kind of sign?” I asked through the tears.
“I’ll say a random phrase,” she suggested, her voice tired.
“Okay,” I sniffled. “What phrase?”
She smiled softly, her fight draining out of her. “I’ll say ‘my leg hurts.’”
She’d died shortly after that promise.
She’d died without ever being able to say goodbye to her youngest daughter.
Sage, the selfish fucking twat that she was.
Stiffening my spine, I turned to survey my room.
I loved Tarrant’s house.
He’d moved Mom and me in when we’d gotten Mom’s cancer diagnosis.
I’d lived with Tarrant’s wife and two teenagers, sharing Mom’s room with her as I helped her navigate the last few months of her life.
Now I was momless and angry, and I had this itch to scratch.
That itch was Sage.
She needed to hear what I had to say, and I wanted her to actually comprehend the words.
They had to be said face to face.
I’d tell her all the nice words that Mom wanted me to tell her. I’d give her that one single chance and if she didn’t say what I needed to hear, that would be it for me.
I’d write her off so fuckin’ fast, her head would spin… and hopefully take her in the opposite direction as me. Forever.