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“Want to try our hand at making fresh ice cream to go with them?”
“Let’s go out to eat tonight. Come back to the brownies and have a movie night.”
“Want to put on pajamas, too? We could go out to eat in our pajamas.”
I knew my mother was trying the best she could to cheer me up. To get my mind off things. But all day yesterday had spiraled into my Saturday, and I still sat up in my room. By the window. Hoping someone might come over and give me information on how Clint was doing. His father, even if he yelled it at me. His stepmother, even if I had to pull it out of her. Hell, even the police officers, even if they had more questions for me to answer.
I’d take any update I could get.
I sighed, gazing out over the dirt we had for a front lawn. The rain drizzled down, creating a sheen of mist over everything as clouds rolled above. The sun hadn’t peeked through once. So, apparently, it and I were on the same wavelength. The weather matched my mood perfectly, and I found myself brooding at my windowsill.
Until a knock came at my door.
“Hey there, sweetie.”
I sighed. “Hey, Mom.”
“I brought you some lunch. Leftovers from last night.”
“Thanks.”
“You mind if I eat in here with you? The breadsticks look tempting.”
“You can have them, if you want.”
I heard her sit on my bed, but I didn’t move. I wasn’t hungry. Even though eggplant parmesan was my favorite. I wanted to be at the hospital with Clint. By his side, assuring him I’d be there for him. I’d made him a promise. I’d told him I wouldn't leave his side. And yet I couldn’t get past his fucking father.
At Clint’s side was the only place I wanted to be.
And his father didn’t give a shit about that.
Mom cleared her throat. “You sure you’re not hungry?”
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“You want to come downstairs and watch Judge Judy with me?”
“Maybe later.”
“It’ll give you a chance to yell at the television for a while.”
I shrugged. “Not really in a yelling mood.”
She sighed. “Sweetheart, I know you’re worried about him. But—”
“Mom, please. I just…”
I heard her stand up before her hand came down against my back. I closed my eyes, feeling my empty tear ducts try to churn out more salted tears. But there were no more for me to cry. My pillow had soaked all of them up last night. They burned without recompense as Mom rubbed my back, trying her best to continue distracting me.
I was tired of the distractions, though.
I wanted to know how Clint was doing.
“I made him a promise.”
“I know you did, sweetie.”
I sighed. “And I’m not there, like I promised.”
