Read Online Until the Stars Fall From the Sky by Mary Crawford - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mary Crawford
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encouraging smile.
Suddenly, she leaps up from her seat and hugs me around the knees, her head in my lap. “Thank you, Miss Kiera,” she cries enthusiastically. I gently brush her hair from her eyes. As she stands up, I see her smile for the first time. Charmingly, she is missing her top tooth and she is bouncing with excitement.
“Well, what are you waiting for ma’am? Aren’t we late for a party?” I open the juice box and lay out the cheese and crackers for her so that she can eat with one hand. I wipe down her right hand with a wipe that has been pre-moistened with hand sanitizer. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be wearing bandages on your hand so that germs don’t get in there and make your owies worse?” I raise an eyebrow at her.
“It itches!” Mindy complains, a scowl darkening her face.
“It's part of the healing process, sweetheart. If it gets infected, everything will be so much worse. If the doctor says you need to cover it Mindy, please, please listen. ”
“Sponge Bob juice boxes!” Mindy exclaims in a transparent attempt to change the subject, or so I think, until she adds, “Nana makes me drink beer, so I don’t drink nothin’ at her house.”
I can’t even almost disguise my reaction to this because the statement is so out of left field. I wrinkle my nose and shudder as I exclaim, “Eww! Beer is gross. I’m with you there, Girlfriend!”
Mindy laughs out loud at my antics, but I’d like to sic my trucker daddy on Mindy’s grandma right about now.
“Better open that box and see who’s coming to the tea party,” I encourage.
Mindy gasps as she finds four Barbie and two Ken dolls and a complete change of clothing for each. She touches each reverently. “Can I really play with ‘em?” she asks softly.
“Yes, you may,” I respond watching her delighted face , wondering when she last felt such joy.
“Why?” she quizzes with a furrowed brow.
“It’s simple,” I explain. ”You’re my friend and playing with Barbies makes you happy. I like making my friends happy.”
“Will you still be my friend — even after today is all gone?” Mindy asks wistfully.
“O f course, I will,” I assure her. “You are part of the Girlfriend Posse now. You’ll never get rid of me.” I give her my business card and write a special code on it. “If you get my voicemail, dial those numbers; I’ll get your message right away. I’ll call you back lickity-split, okay?”
Over the next 90 minutes, I have the most important, emotionally draining, heart-wrenching tea party of my life. I finish up the reams of paperwork and text the Girlfriend Posse as I wait for my van lift to deploy.
Need Panera’s 911!!!
Girl, you just got back in town! :-( Tara replies.
Hush! There’s no bad time for Panera’s. C U at 6:30, answers Heather.
<3 U See you then.
This is perfect, now I’ll get a chance to change my clothes before dinner. I take a quick shower and throw on a halter-top and skirt. I have the shortest commute to Panera’s. I am less than 15 minutes out. Tara, who is in the sign language interpreting program at Western Oregon University, is closer to 25 minutes away. Heather is the outlier. She owns a food truck that she currently has based out of Forest Grove. She is willing to drive the hour and fifteen minutes it takes to get to our Girlfriend Posse meetings, but today she didn’t need to because she is already in Salem at a culinary conference.
I arrive at Panera’s early having over-estimated the summer traffic, so I pull up to one of the tables on the patio to wait for my friends. The manager pokes his head out the door and asks me if I need anything. I tell him my friends are coming and ask for ice water. He brings me a glass. “Thanks,” I smile and nod. I sip my water as I check my email. No thanks, I don’t need any Viagra.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I practically spill my water. “Hello?” I answer breathlessly as I try to balance the phone and save my
Suddenly, she leaps up from her seat and hugs me around the knees, her head in my lap. “Thank you, Miss Kiera,” she cries enthusiastically. I gently brush her hair from her eyes. As she stands up, I see her smile for the first time. Charmingly, she is missing her top tooth and she is bouncing with excitement.
“Well, what are you waiting for ma’am? Aren’t we late for a party?” I open the juice box and lay out the cheese and crackers for her so that she can eat with one hand. I wipe down her right hand with a wipe that has been pre-moistened with hand sanitizer. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be wearing bandages on your hand so that germs don’t get in there and make your owies worse?” I raise an eyebrow at her.
“It itches!” Mindy complains, a scowl darkening her face.
“It's part of the healing process, sweetheart. If it gets infected, everything will be so much worse. If the doctor says you need to cover it Mindy, please, please listen. ”
“Sponge Bob juice boxes!” Mindy exclaims in a transparent attempt to change the subject, or so I think, until she adds, “Nana makes me drink beer, so I don’t drink nothin’ at her house.”
I can’t even almost disguise my reaction to this because the statement is so out of left field. I wrinkle my nose and shudder as I exclaim, “Eww! Beer is gross. I’m with you there, Girlfriend!”
Mindy laughs out loud at my antics, but I’d like to sic my trucker daddy on Mindy’s grandma right about now.
“Better open that box and see who’s coming to the tea party,” I encourage.
Mindy gasps as she finds four Barbie and two Ken dolls and a complete change of clothing for each. She touches each reverently. “Can I really play with ‘em?” she asks softly.
“Yes, you may,” I respond watching her delighted face , wondering when she last felt such joy.
“Why?” she quizzes with a furrowed brow.
“It’s simple,” I explain. ”You’re my friend and playing with Barbies makes you happy. I like making my friends happy.”
“Will you still be my friend — even after today is all gone?” Mindy asks wistfully.
“O f course, I will,” I assure her. “You are part of the Girlfriend Posse now. You’ll never get rid of me.” I give her my business card and write a special code on it. “If you get my voicemail, dial those numbers; I’ll get your message right away. I’ll call you back lickity-split, okay?”
Over the next 90 minutes, I have the most important, emotionally draining, heart-wrenching tea party of my life. I finish up the reams of paperwork and text the Girlfriend Posse as I wait for my van lift to deploy.
Need Panera’s 911!!!
Girl, you just got back in town! :-( Tara replies.
Hush! There’s no bad time for Panera’s. C U at 6:30, answers Heather.
<3 U See you then.
This is perfect, now I’ll get a chance to change my clothes before dinner. I take a quick shower and throw on a halter-top and skirt. I have the shortest commute to Panera’s. I am less than 15 minutes out. Tara, who is in the sign language interpreting program at Western Oregon University, is closer to 25 minutes away. Heather is the outlier. She owns a food truck that she currently has based out of Forest Grove. She is willing to drive the hour and fifteen minutes it takes to get to our Girlfriend Posse meetings, but today she didn’t need to because she is already in Salem at a culinary conference.
I arrive at Panera’s early having over-estimated the summer traffic, so I pull up to one of the tables on the patio to wait for my friends. The manager pokes his head out the door and asks me if I need anything. I tell him my friends are coming and ask for ice water. He brings me a glass. “Thanks,” I smile and nod. I sip my water as I check my email. No thanks, I don’t need any Viagra.
My phone buzzes in my hand and I practically spill my water. “Hello?” I answer breathlessly as I try to balance the phone and save my
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