“I’ll try not to be a pain,” said Gemma softly.
“You’re not a pain. You can make things grow, remember?” Imani said.
“Well, potatoes for sure,” added Mercury.
“We should go tell Doc Hilary,” said Gemma.
“Agreed, and we need breakfast,” said Mercury.
“I could use some coffee,” said Gemma as she stood, took off her bathrobe, and began pulling on the clean clothes. She left behind the neatly smoothed envelope with the goodbye letter from her mother, lying on the coffee table like a lost dream.
“Coffee? Really? Are you sure you’re sixteen and not sixty?” Mercury said.
Gemma’s head poked out of the sweater as she answered Mercury. “Does how old I feel count?”
“In every way,” said Imani.
“Then I am definitely not sixteen today.”
CHAPTER
14
WHENMERCURY,IMANI,and Gemma stepped into the foyer-infirmary, the aroma from the trays of breakfast casseroles Stella had made, mixed with the distinctively cloying scent of burning marijuana, almost cloaked the sharp smell of ash that rested like a shroud over everything.
Mercury sniffed the air. “Is that weed?”
“Yep!” Gemma nodded enthusiastically. “Doc Hilary is prescribing it for pain and anxiety.”
“I’m gonna have to get on her prescription list,” muttered Mercury. Stella waved them over from her place at the low table they’d commandeered the night before.
“Coffee is over there by the cups and such,” Stella said as the three of them joined her. “There’s another breakfast casserole on warm in the kitchen. Is Karen seriously still asleep?”
“No, she was just getting out of the shower when we left the room,” said Imani.
“Hey, thanks for bringing us clothes,” said Mercury.
“Yeah, you did good,” Gemma said.
Stella shrugged. “No biggie.”
“Imani, if you and Gemma pour the coffee, Stella and I will get the casserole,” said Mercury as she sent Stella a “come-with-me” look. Friends for too long to ignore the look, Stella stood, and together the two women made their way through the room of wounded people to the kitchen. “So, they’re smoking weed.”
“Yeah,” said Stella. “It’s great for pain relief and anxiety. Apparently, some of the full-time staff—all dead now, by the by—had a reefer grow station set up in the basement, with lights, dirt, fertilizer, giant plants, and lots of mason jars of dried bud—the whole deal.”
Mercury stopped and looked at her. “For real?”
“Absolutely. There’s enough stuff down there for an entire greenhouse. Doc Hilary was thrilled. She’s a naturopath who knows a lot about plants, and awhole lotabout medical marijuana in particular. She’s writing down recipes for me to make salve and tinctures, and butter for edibles.”
“Huh. That’s a bright spot in a dark day—literally and figuratively.”
“You can say that again.” She gestured toward the wall of boarded-up windows. “It’s a dark mess out there. I plan on joining the weed smokers after I get the stuff the doc needs made and dinner simmering.”
“I’ll help.”
“I’m counting on it. Imani’s useless in the kitchen.” Stella glanced at her friend as they entered the kitchen, and she switched on one of the floor lamps. “I assume you want to talk about how we’re going to tell Doc Hilary about the blood stuff,” said Stella as she grabbed plates from the wire rack.
“Well, yeah, but first you should know that Sadie, Gemma’s mom, left.”