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She gestured to the phone. “The pictures of your grandmother.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess so.”
I didn’t feel like sharing, yet I swiped back to the first picture and turned the phone so she could see. Chelsea plucked the phone from my hand and swiped through them all. She stopped at the last one, too.
“Who’s this?”
“Nora. My grandmother’s friend.”
Chelsea looked up at me. “She’s beautiful.”
I shrugged, trying to cut off the conversation. Luckily, the waiter came by and took care of that for me. I slipped my phone from Chelsea’s hand, and by the time we were done ordering dinner, my date seemed to have forgotten all about the photos. She went back to rambling on about another celebrity.
But I couldn’t get the pictures out of my mind—not during dinner and not after, when Chelsea invited me back to her place.
I wanted to want to go home with her in the worst way. Lord knows I hadn’t had sex in what felt like forever. But that ship had now sailed. It made me miserable to decline.
“I have an early morning, so I think I’m going to head home.”
Chelsea looked as confused as my insides felt. “Really?” She pushed her bottom lip into a pout. “Come for an hour or two. It’s only ten thirty.”
“Another time, maybe?”
She shrugged. “Well, I guess it’s a good sign that we went out even if you weren’t looking to get laid. I was starting to think you were only interested in one thing.”
Shit. Talk about reading the room wrong. Now she thought I was interested in more than just sex, when I wasn’t even interested in that with her anymore. I’d have to cut things off entirely after tonight. But right now, I didn’t feel like having that conversation. I just wanted to go home.
“I’ll grab us a cab and have them drop you off first.”
A half hour later, I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter. Bitsy greeted me with her usual growling and barking, then ran down the hall to Maddie’s room, though my daughter wouldn’t be back for a few more days.
I wasn’t tired, so I headed to the cabinet and poured two fingers of whiskey. Kicking off my shoes, I put my feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. Nothing caught my attention as I flicked around, so I turned the TV back off and picked up my laptop to check my calendar for tomorrow instead. But it opened to the last website I’d visited—Nora’s blog.
Great. Just great.
She’d posted another video, too.
It’s probably more of her riding.Because the hour I’d already spent watching the thirty-second recording of her goingup and down, up and downwasn’t enough. The woman was a menace. I needed to ignore the video, wipe my search history from my laptop’s memory, and block her webpage.
Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.
I sucked back a mouthful of my drink, staring at the screen.
Oh, who the fuck am I kidding?
I’d left a sure thing to come home because a picture had distracted me. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was leaving this video unwatched. So I stopped fighting it and hit play.
“Howdy, y’all.” Nora smiled at the camera. “How did that sound? Can I pull off a howdy? I kind of like it. It’s friendlier than a New York chin lift andwhat’s up, don’t you think? Anywho… for those of you joining our vlog for the first time, welcome toLive Like You’re Dying, episode eighteen—a docuseries of the extraordinary end of Louise Aster’s life. If you’d like to know more about Louise’s diagnosis and treatment decisions...” Nora pointed down, and some words popped up on the screen. “Just click over toLive Like You’re Dying, episode one, which should be right there on the bottom of your screen. If you’re already familiar with our series, you know that Louise is busy enjoying her life—living every day like it might be her last—and these last two days have been no different. This week, we’re out in Montana at Sunny Acres Ranch, riding horses and corralling cattle, something we don’t get to do too much of in New York City. We hope you’ll find these new videos inspiring, and maybe you’ll go out and live your days as if they could be your last. So without further ado—oh wait.” She held up a finger. “Before I move on to the highlight reel, I wanted to show you what Louise and I picked up at the souvenir store today.” Nora set the camera down and held open her jacket. She had on a pink T-shirt that read:World’s Okayest Horse Rider.
She spoke to someone off camera and waved them over. “Hey. I want to show our followers your new T-shirt. Come here.”
My grandmother walked over and opened her jacket, flashing a shit-eating grin. Her T-shirt was also pink, but this one read:Save a horse. Ride a cowboy.
I chuckled.Figures.
After that, there was about ten minutes of footage of Gram riding, corralling steer from atop a horse, shooting a bow and arrow at a target, and nailing a bullseye. Even I had to smile. It was pretty damn inspiring to watch, especially knowing her age and how cancer had ravaged her body.
After the videos were done, Nora came back on screen.
