she realizes it or not.
I say a quick prayer requesting protection for Taylor, that Mom doesn't come a-knocking, and forgiveness if I have to lie to her or Jason. Mostly, I pray that we can all just get through this. That Mrs. Tillson comes out of her coma. That Mr. Tillson can bring his family back together when he finally gets picked up from the frickin' wilderness tundra of Alaska.
And most of all, I pray that I can avoid the Tillson drama and not be drawn into the middle.
That's a lose-lose situation.
Chapter Seven
T HANKFULLY, T AYLOR IS SOUND ASLEEP next to me when I rise Saturday morning. I don't want to know where she's been or what time she slipped through the back door to return to my bedroom undetected. No questions asked when she wakes up, yawns, and stretches next to me and my cats Eleanor and Buckley. The kitties could care less that there's an extra person in bed with us as long as they still have room to spread out.
Taylor scratches Eleanor behind her tabby ear and asks, "Did you tell Jase anything?"
I shake my head into my pillow. "We talked briefly last night and texted a little. I told him we were watching movies and having a girls' night. That seemed to appease him."
Taylor closes her eyes and sighs. "Thanks, Kendall."
"What are friends for?"
We dress, grab a quick snack that Mom left for us, and then head over to Radisson Memorial Hospital.
"Any change?" Taylor asks when we approach the nurses' station.
A tall, slender black woman turns and smiles at us. Her nametag reads
Lucinda.
"You must be the Tillson girl. Your mama was asking for you a little while ago."
"She's awake?" Taylor exclaims and grabs for my hand. Tears immediately squeeze from the corners of her eyes as her grin spreads across her face. "Oh my God, Kendall! She's awake!"
I grip her hand tightly in support of the good news.
"Well, she was awake earlier," Lucinda explains. "She's gone back to sleep, though."
Taylor slumps next to me, all of the joy momentarily spent. "Oh."
"No, sweetie," the nurse says. "Don't fret. Her vitals are looking good and her heartbeat is strong. The doctor checked on her a little while ago and was pleased with her progress."
"Thank God," I say. "Can we see her?"
Lucinda nods and points us toward Mrs. Tillson's room.
We enter the darkened room as silently as we can and Taylor takes a seat in the middle of her bed. She reaches for her hand and weaves her fingers through the still ones of her mother.
"Oh, Mama." Taylor speaks in a whisper. "Why did you do it?" When her mother doesn't move or respond, my friend lifts her eyes to me. "Can you tell me? Do
you
know?"
I reach over and take Mrs. Tillson's hand and concentrate. I breathe through the sliver of knowledge being shown to me. Rachel Tillson got a phone call from her Delta Air Lines pilot boyfriend. He wanted to make a clean break with her because he had decided to reconcile with his wife for the sake of their four kids. Mrs. Tillson felt used and unattractive, seeing as how she'd lost
two
men, and she didn't think she had anything to live for anymore.
As the vision clears, my resentment amplifies. Didn't have anything to live for? Are you kidding me? How about two "things" named Jason and Taylor? I bite down my anger toward their mother, trying only to be a reassurance to my friends. But come on! Damn ... sometimes being psychic and knowing things that others don't know is a real frickin' burden, 'cause you can't just blurt out the truth. That saying about sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you is total bullshit. Words are forever ... and they sting. I will not hurt my friend or kick her when she's down.
Instead of sharing the info, I look at Taylor and say, "It's not really clear to me. I'm sure your mom will tell you everything when she's doing better. The important thing is to be here for her. Let her know you're around and that you love her."
"I do love her. So much," Taylor says.
There's movement at the
I say a quick prayer requesting protection for Taylor, that Mom doesn't come a-knocking, and forgiveness if I have to lie to her or Jason. Mostly, I pray that we can all just get through this. That Mrs. Tillson comes out of her coma. That Mr. Tillson can bring his family back together when he finally gets picked up from the frickin' wilderness tundra of Alaska.
And most of all, I pray that I can avoid the Tillson drama and not be drawn into the middle.
That's a lose-lose situation.
Chapter Seven
T HANKFULLY, T AYLOR IS SOUND ASLEEP next to me when I rise Saturday morning. I don't want to know where she's been or what time she slipped through the back door to return to my bedroom undetected. No questions asked when she wakes up, yawns, and stretches next to me and my cats Eleanor and Buckley. The kitties could care less that there's an extra person in bed with us as long as they still have room to spread out.
Taylor scratches Eleanor behind her tabby ear and asks, "Did you tell Jase anything?"
I shake my head into my pillow. "We talked briefly last night and texted a little. I told him we were watching movies and having a girls' night. That seemed to appease him."
Taylor closes her eyes and sighs. "Thanks, Kendall."
"What are friends for?"
We dress, grab a quick snack that Mom left for us, and then head over to Radisson Memorial Hospital.
"Any change?" Taylor asks when we approach the nurses' station.
A tall, slender black woman turns and smiles at us. Her nametag reads
Lucinda.
"You must be the Tillson girl. Your mama was asking for you a little while ago."
"She's awake?" Taylor exclaims and grabs for my hand. Tears immediately squeeze from the corners of her eyes as her grin spreads across her face. "Oh my God, Kendall! She's awake!"
I grip her hand tightly in support of the good news.
"Well, she was awake earlier," Lucinda explains. "She's gone back to sleep, though."
Taylor slumps next to me, all of the joy momentarily spent. "Oh."
"No, sweetie," the nurse says. "Don't fret. Her vitals are looking good and her heartbeat is strong. The doctor checked on her a little while ago and was pleased with her progress."
"Thank God," I say. "Can we see her?"
Lucinda nods and points us toward Mrs. Tillson's room.
We enter the darkened room as silently as we can and Taylor takes a seat in the middle of her bed. She reaches for her hand and weaves her fingers through the still ones of her mother.
"Oh, Mama." Taylor speaks in a whisper. "Why did you do it?" When her mother doesn't move or respond, my friend lifts her eyes to me. "Can you tell me? Do
you
know?"
I reach over and take Mrs. Tillson's hand and concentrate. I breathe through the sliver of knowledge being shown to me. Rachel Tillson got a phone call from her Delta Air Lines pilot boyfriend. He wanted to make a clean break with her because he had decided to reconcile with his wife for the sake of their four kids. Mrs. Tillson felt used and unattractive, seeing as how she'd lost
two
men, and she didn't think she had anything to live for anymore.
As the vision clears, my resentment amplifies. Didn't have anything to live for? Are you kidding me? How about two "things" named Jason and Taylor? I bite down my anger toward their mother, trying only to be a reassurance to my friends. But come on! Damn ... sometimes being psychic and knowing things that others don't know is a real frickin' burden, 'cause you can't just blurt out the truth. That saying about sticks and stones may break your bones but words will never hurt you is total bullshit. Words are forever ... and they sting. I will not hurt my friend or kick her when she's down.
Instead of sharing the info, I look at Taylor and say, "It's not really clear to me. I'm sure your mom will tell you everything when she's doing better. The important thing is to be here for her. Let her know you're around and that you love her."
"I do love her. So much," Taylor says.
There's movement at the
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