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I shake my head. "It sucks. I'm not going to say it doesn't. But you don't need to take everything on by yourself. I'm here. I'm right here."
"Paige."
"No. You need to stop looking at me like this fragile little thing."
She stays still for a moment, before finally nodding. "You're right. I'm sorry."
My shoulders sag in relief. "So, how is Dad? For real this time."
"It took a while to get it to stop, and his oxygen dropped dangerously low," she explains. "But the doctor got it to stop. It went back up quickly, and he said that there shouldn't be any neurological deficits. He left more of the medicine with me, but if it happens again, he might need to be intubated."
"He's in hospice. Would they even do that?"
She looks down and subtly shakes her head. "I don't think so. His medical directive is very clear when it comes to machines. He doesn't want to be kept alive if he's suffering, and that includes intubation."
I'm not going to lie; this is all hard to hear. And maybe I shouldn't have asked for her to be so candid with me, but I'm not about to take it back now. My parents have been in love for as long as they can remember, and when the day comes where my dad leaves this earth, it's my mom who is going to be the most broken. And it will be me who keeps her whole.
"Well, one of these days, you are going to take a break, and I'll take over for a bit." It's not a request, but more of a demand.
She snickers through her obvious despair. "That would be great, sweetie. Thank you."
OKAY, SO MAYBE I underestimated the amount of time it would take to fold four loads of laundry. And maybe my mom waited way too long to do this laundry in the first place, because I've never seen so much in my life. I feel like we've been folding forever, when it's probably only an hour in reality, but my God.
My phone start
s to ring underneath a pile of clothes, and my mom shrieks as I almost topple our piles while trying to find it. In all actuality, I probably should have just kept it lost, because seeing Carter's name on the screen doesn't bring any happy feelings.
I press answer and put it on speaker. Mistake number one.
"Hey, Carter."
He sounds like he just woke up. "Well, if it isn't my favorite Haven Grace Prep cheerleader."
I roll my eyes. "You're confusing me and Savannah."
"Okay, fair," he laughs. "But in my defense, she didn't graduate as a cheerleader, so she doesn't count."
"Oh, so you admit she's your favorite? Great. Call her."
I hang up the phone, and my mom chuckles under her breath. In true Carter fashion, it rings again.
"Why do I not just send you to voicemail?" I ask.
"Because I'm secretly your best friend." The confidence in his tone is alarming.
I hum. "Becca would probably have something to say about that."
"I'm her best friend, too."
"No, no," I argue. "That position is taken, thank you very much."
He murmurs something to someone in the background, and then comes back to me. "Okay, fine. Listen, I don't have long to talk, but I just wanted to let you know that Jace is going to be home alone all day."
My brows furrow. "Uh, did I become his keeper without my knowledge?"
"No, but if you wanted another chance to talk to him, there doesn't get one better than that."
"I don't know," I say, which is a lie. I do know—I don’t want another round with Jace’s vicious mouth.
