Read Online There Will Come a Time by Carrie Arcos - Free Book Online

write Grace’s name underneath the last one. Fern has drawn her with a triangle, like she’s wearing a skirt, even though Grace never wore skirts. Her hair is black and shorter than it should be. I give it some length. I also add some lashes to her eyes and make her smile a little more even.
    Fern catches her breath. “That looks just like Grace. You are a good drawer. Look, Mom!”
    Jenny comes over to the table. “Yes, it does. Just like Grace.” She places her hand on the figure, and I have to look away. “Let’s get you ready for the day.”
    They leave and my dad stays at the sink with the water running, even though he’s finished rinsing the dishes. His shoulders are hunched over. I’m trying to think of something to say, but my phone buzzes.
    Hey
    I’m sorry , I type, and get up from the table. This time I mean the words. “Bye, Dad,” I tell him, and head back upstairs, leaving him at the sink. He doesn’t respond.
    You should be.
    I know.
    Me too
    Come over
    When?
    An hour?
    Maybe
    An hour and a half later the doorbell rings. It’s Hanna, standing there with her hands in her jean pockets.
    â€œWell?” she asks when I open the door.
    I smile, hoping that will be enough to win her over, but she kind of pouts. I can tell she’s going to make me work for it.
    â€œI said I was sorry.”
    â€œTrue,” she says, and walks past me into the house. She takes off her shoes and throws them into the shoe basket by the front door before making herself at home on the couch in the living room. “Where is everyone?”
    â€œPark.” I think about joining her, but I sit across from her on the love seat.
    â€œYou didn’t want to go?” She asks me all formal, like I’m being interviewed for some after-school job.
    â€œWould you?”
    â€œProbably not.”
    Our conversation is stilted as if there’s something stillunfinished between us. I consider apologizing again when she stands up.
    â€œYou have anything to eat?” She heads for the kitchen.
    â€œYeah. You feeling okay?”
    â€œJust a little low.” And right on cue, her pump beeps. “All right, Pepe,” she says, and pats her side. “Mama’s coming.”
    Whenever her sugar levels are too low or too high, Pepe makes a soft beep. Hanna says he’s just temperamental. Sometimes she sets Pepe on silent so she doesn’t have to explain to people why she’s beeping.
    I pour her a glass of orange juice.
    â€œThanks,” she says. “Maybe my sugar’s fine. I could just be PMSing.”
    â€œAww, man, why’d you have to do that?”
    â€œWhat?” She hops up and sits on top of the counter, as she’s been doing since we were kids. She swings her legs back and forth and drinks the juice.
    â€œIf I were to say that, I’d never hear the end of it.”
    â€œIt’s not like I asked you to get me a tampon or anything.”
    I put my hands over my ears. “Not listening.” She knows this kind of talk freaks me out. Some things a guy just doesn’t need to know. Grace used to try to discuss her womanly problems with me too. I guess she and Hanna thought it was funny to see my reaction.
    Hanna pulls a book from her back pocket and tosses it to me. It’s Grace’s journal.
    â€œListen, Mark,” she begins. “If you don’t want to do the list, I understand.” She avoids my eyes. “She probably just wrote it not thinking that she’d actually do these things. It’s not like she thought anyone would read it and follow through. I don’t want to push you. So . . .”
    Hanna puts the empty glass down and jumps off the counter. She reaches out and touches my arm as she passes me, and the walls within me start to crack.
    â€œNo,” I say.
    â€œNo?” She turns around.
    â€œI mean, let’s do it.”
    Hanna studies me, and I give her my