Read Online Sound Advice (Sensations Collection #1) by L.B. Dunbar - Free Book Online
Authors: L.B. Dunbar
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miracle. And I pray to the Lord that a little ray of sunshine is back in that child.” Sue continued her prayer through the phone, but I knew she was addressing Jess as well me with her celebration.
“It’s a six hour drive, and I plan to leave by eight a.m. I should be there around 3:00 your time. Okay?”
“Perfect, honey. You be careful.”
I didn’t have the strength to get off the floor, so I slid onto my side, curled up my knees toward my chest, and closed my eyes, lying on the cool wooden floor of my apartment hallway.
IT WAS ALMOST midnight when I finally left my apartment. I had slept so soundly on the floor that when I woke up I knew I could never go back to sleep in my bed. The need to return to Elk Rapids was a force pulling me as I filled two suitcases, packed my laptop and printer, and left a message for my editor on my way out of the city explaining in a brief summary what I suspected was the seriousness of Nana’s situation. I proposed my plan for remote work for the next month.
I worked for Chicago Travels , a Midwestern magazine that highlighted adventures in and around Chicago. My position included traveling throughout the Midwest states to different festivals, town events, and holiday celebrations, which the magazine highlighted as day trips or weekend get-a-ways. It was my first “real” job after graduating from college with a degree in writing. I wanted to write books, informational books, but I had to start somewhere, and Chicago Travels was a good professional opportunity.
My boss, Jack Dooley, was half as old as me. He worked hard, but appreciated his staff, so he played hard as well. He was one of those rare bosses who expected much of you, but realized you were human and he allowed family first. I wasn’t one of the married-with-children people in our office, so I hadn’t had too much experience with asking for time off for family reasons. When I explained my situation with Nana, though, I could only hope he would be understanding and agree for me to work from Nana’s home.
I called Rosie on the drive out of Chicago. Despite the late hour, Rosie had trouble sleeping this late in her fourth pregnancy and I talked for almost an hour straight, detailing the whole situation from the moment I met Jess Carter to the time I left him. Rosie listened attentively.
“The girl suffers from post-traumatic stress,” she finally said.
“Isn’t that something you get after surgery or something?” I sighed.
“It’s post traumatic. That means after a trauma. If that little girl was alone a few hours, knowing her mother left her, who knows what is in her head. Not to mention what her mother might have said.”
“Why do you say that?”
“As parents, we all say things we don’t mean – go away, leave me alone a minute . You don’t know what her mother said, if anything, before she left. And with no apology or explanation later, that little girl might think something adult-driven was her fault.”
“Rosie, how did you get so smart?’
“Practice.”
I giggled and Rosie spoke again.
“You like him?” At first it was a question, and then it was a tease. “You like him, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You like him. You like him,” Rosie sing-songed in a little-girl-sounding voice.
“He loathes me.”
“That never stopped you before.”
“Oh, Rosie, come on. He has a child. He probably misses his wife. I don’t know if he even knows where she is.”
“Complications.”
“Rosie, please,” I laughed.
“You need to get laid.”
“All right, that’s enough. This is serious.” Suddenly, I was getting angry.
“You’re right. It is. But unless you like him, this is not your concern. Get Nana and get out.” Rosie’s tone was serious this time.
I knew Rosie felt differently about Michigan then I did. Growing up, Rosie was a live-in-the-moment kind of girl. She liked it when she was there, and forgot about it when she wasn’t. After our mother’s death,
“It’s a six hour drive, and I plan to leave by eight a.m. I should be there around 3:00 your time. Okay?”
“Perfect, honey. You be careful.”
I didn’t have the strength to get off the floor, so I slid onto my side, curled up my knees toward my chest, and closed my eyes, lying on the cool wooden floor of my apartment hallway.
IT WAS ALMOST midnight when I finally left my apartment. I had slept so soundly on the floor that when I woke up I knew I could never go back to sleep in my bed. The need to return to Elk Rapids was a force pulling me as I filled two suitcases, packed my laptop and printer, and left a message for my editor on my way out of the city explaining in a brief summary what I suspected was the seriousness of Nana’s situation. I proposed my plan for remote work for the next month.
I worked for Chicago Travels , a Midwestern magazine that highlighted adventures in and around Chicago. My position included traveling throughout the Midwest states to different festivals, town events, and holiday celebrations, which the magazine highlighted as day trips or weekend get-a-ways. It was my first “real” job after graduating from college with a degree in writing. I wanted to write books, informational books, but I had to start somewhere, and Chicago Travels was a good professional opportunity.
My boss, Jack Dooley, was half as old as me. He worked hard, but appreciated his staff, so he played hard as well. He was one of those rare bosses who expected much of you, but realized you were human and he allowed family first. I wasn’t one of the married-with-children people in our office, so I hadn’t had too much experience with asking for time off for family reasons. When I explained my situation with Nana, though, I could only hope he would be understanding and agree for me to work from Nana’s home.
I called Rosie on the drive out of Chicago. Despite the late hour, Rosie had trouble sleeping this late in her fourth pregnancy and I talked for almost an hour straight, detailing the whole situation from the moment I met Jess Carter to the time I left him. Rosie listened attentively.
“The girl suffers from post-traumatic stress,” she finally said.
“Isn’t that something you get after surgery or something?” I sighed.
“It’s post traumatic. That means after a trauma. If that little girl was alone a few hours, knowing her mother left her, who knows what is in her head. Not to mention what her mother might have said.”
“Why do you say that?”
“As parents, we all say things we don’t mean – go away, leave me alone a minute . You don’t know what her mother said, if anything, before she left. And with no apology or explanation later, that little girl might think something adult-driven was her fault.”
“Rosie, how did you get so smart?’
“Practice.”
I giggled and Rosie spoke again.
“You like him?” At first it was a question, and then it was a tease. “You like him, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You like him. You like him,” Rosie sing-songed in a little-girl-sounding voice.
“He loathes me.”
“That never stopped you before.”
“Oh, Rosie, come on. He has a child. He probably misses his wife. I don’t know if he even knows where she is.”
“Complications.”
“Rosie, please,” I laughed.
“You need to get laid.”
“All right, that’s enough. This is serious.” Suddenly, I was getting angry.
“You’re right. It is. But unless you like him, this is not your concern. Get Nana and get out.” Rosie’s tone was serious this time.
I knew Rosie felt differently about Michigan then I did. Growing up, Rosie was a live-in-the-moment kind of girl. She liked it when she was there, and forgot about it when she wasn’t. After our mother’s death,
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