Read Online New Life by Bonnie Dee - Free Book Online Page A

nothing had happened.
    “So, tell me more about your little sister.
What’s her name again?”
    “Katie. Today I got to learn more than I ever
wanted to know about the horror of being a middle school girl.
Sounds like everybody except her is a catty bitch.”
    I chuckled. “I remember those days. You’re
in, then you’re out, then you’re back in again and somebody else is
on the outs. Worst years ever. Like walking on hot coals every
day.” I gestured to my car. “Over there.”
    Jason stumbled as he stepped off the curb,
and my hand shot out to steady him, but I pulled it back,
remembering his pride. He balanced himself with a hand on the roof
of the car. I unlocked the passenger door and waited for him to
climb in.
    As I walked to the driver’s side, I thought
about the unexpected direction the evening was going. There was a
lot about Jason I didn’t know. If I was going to see him more than
this one time, if we were going to continue going out, I needed to
know more about the extent of his problems and what I was getting
myself into.
    It was time to get a few answers from Jason
about both his condition and the accident that had caused it.
     

Chapter Seven
    I felt like some drunk slumped in the corner
of Anna’s car, leaning my head against the window while she drove
me home. But I wasn’t drunk. Hadn’t had a chance to do more than
sip my vodka before the churning in my stomach reached epic
proportions and I had to bolt to the john. I should’ve known better
than to add alcohol icing to the cake when I was already feeling
ill. Now Anna would think I was truly pathetic. She was seeing me
at my worst.
    Well, maybe not my worst. There’d been much
lower levels in the early part of my recovery, temper flares,
crying jags, and giving up to lie in a fetal ball. Anyway, now she
knew some of my warts, but I would’ve preferred she not see them on
our very first date.
    I straightened. “So, how’s your new dog
doing?”
    “She chews. I’ve had to puppy proof the
apartment, and even then she managed to destroy one of my favorite
pairs of shoes, a couple of area rugs, and the leg of my couch. I
couldn’t leave her caged all day, so I hired a walker who takes
care of a lot of dogs in my building. But one walk every afternoon
didn’t seem like enough, so now she’s in doggie day care,
socializing with friends.”
    “Sounds like you’re being a good mom.”
    “I hope so. I never had a pet when I was
young and always wanted one. Now I kind of understand why my mom
said it was too much work.” She glanced over at me, her face
illuminated by the headlights of a passing car. “How about you? Did
you have any pets growing up?”
    “A beagle named Skeezer. By the end, he was a
fat, blind, farting lump, but nobody had the heart to put him
down.”
    I remembered the squirmy pup he’d been when
we brought him home compared to the arthritic mess he’d become. How
could I have such clear memories of a family pet yet couldn’t
remember more important things—like whatever the hell had happened
between me and my high school girlfriend?
    “I was at college when my mom called one day
to say Skeezer had died. But he’d had a good, long life, and it was
kind of a relief by then.”
    A sudden sharp spear of sorrow stabbed
through me, and tears prickled my eyes. Oh Jesus, not now. After
waking from the coma, I used to fall apart easily. Now those crying
jags were rare, and I was better able to control them. I closed my
eyes and waited for the melancholy to fade. It wasn’t really the
memory of good old Skeezer that haunted me, but an aching sense of
loss of myself, my past, my future potential, and many other
things.
    This was not the time to give in to sad
introspection. I cleared my throat. “If you ever want a dog sitter,
I could do that. I like dogs, but I can’t afford one right
now.”
    Anna paused a beat, probably considering the
fact that I was so poor I couldn’t keep a pet. “They are expensive.
The