Read Online When Angels Cry by Maria Rachel Hooley - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Maria Rachel Hooley
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her opinion on “the best way” to handle things."
“ I sn’t that convenient? You make all the choices, and the rest of us have to deal with the outcome. Maybe your mother would like to spend time with you. Maybe she loves you and needs to get to know you before....” His voice tapered off. Bastian paced, focusing on the act of putting one foot in front of the other. He touched his cheeks and realized as the stubble pricked his fingers that he’d forgotten to shave this morning. His stomach rolled , and nausea attacked him. He stopped at the window and waited for it to pass. Saying it would make it real so h e tried to focus on the way the snow had piled up outside the window, the hum of the heater —anything except the hollowness he felt inside.
Kaylee folded her arms across her chest. “Maybe she does. But it won’t be because I’m terminally ill. I don't want her pity, and she ’s not going to control my death the way she's controlled my life.”
The doorbell rang , and Kaylee jumped.
“Looks like you have company, and maybe I should see if my truck will start. Sometimes it changes its mind.” He fumbled with his keys.
Kaylee peeked out the window again. “Where are you going? I don’t think your truck is going to start.”
“I don’t want to crowd you or give your guests something to talk about.” He stepped toward the door.
“You’re not crowding me , and I don’t give a damn what they talk about. It’s pointless .” She gestured to the couch and touched his arm. “ Sit. Please. ”
Bastian looked at her imploring eyes and finally sat.
As Kaylee stepped into the foyer and peered through the stained glass window in the door, she saw the outline of Rosie Griggs.
“How did I know it was you,” she muttered, pulling open the door.
“There you are . You could have called St. Andrew’s and said you weren’t coming ,” Rosie said. She was a tall African - America woman in her late thirties with thick hair twisted into a bun. She wiggled a chiding finger at Kaylee.
From the other room, Bastian tried to block the voices, but he couldn’t, not when Rosie’s voice boomed loudly.
“I didn’t feel well this morning,” Kaylee said, l eaning against the door .
“You didn’t feel well enough to help out in the soup kitchen but you felt good enough to have some hottie over for breakfast? Looks like somebody’s been here a while …m aybe all night?” She pointed to Bastian’s truck.
Does she recognize his truck? Kaylee wondered. “My girlfriend from Newark, actually.”
“That don’t look like no girl’s truck.” Rosie pulled her hood over her head and cinched the string. “Me and the girls thought maybe you might be in the sack with your Prince Charming. He didn’t show, either.”
Kaylee coughed uncomfortably, leaning more heavily against the door frame. “Coincidence, I’m sure.”
“Are you all right?” Rosie asked.
Kaylee stood upright , and s he felt her cheeks redden. “Peachy, thanks.”
“How’s your head?” Rosie asked softly. “Is that why you were sick this morning?” She gently touched Kaylee’s shoulder.
“I’m just tired, that’s all. Nothing big.” Kaylee squirmed and nudged Rosie’s hand away. She stared at the ground, avoiding Rosie’s gaze. Goosebumps stippled Kaylee’s arms, and she folded them across her chest, trying to stay warm. Her breath funneled outwards and dissipated.
“You talked to your mama lately?” Rosie shifted her weight from one foot to the other and shook the snow from her galoshes. .
Kaylee nodded wearily. “Last week. She said she’d be home this week. I asked if that w ere a threat or a promise.”
“You did not.” Rosie grinned.
“I wanted to.” She pointed toward the living room. “Do you want to come in?”
Rosie shook her head. “Nah, girl. I just came to see if
“ I sn’t that convenient? You make all the choices, and the rest of us have to deal with the outcome. Maybe your mother would like to spend time with you. Maybe she loves you and needs to get to know you before....” His voice tapered off. Bastian paced, focusing on the act of putting one foot in front of the other. He touched his cheeks and realized as the stubble pricked his fingers that he’d forgotten to shave this morning. His stomach rolled , and nausea attacked him. He stopped at the window and waited for it to pass. Saying it would make it real so h e tried to focus on the way the snow had piled up outside the window, the hum of the heater —anything except the hollowness he felt inside.
Kaylee folded her arms across her chest. “Maybe she does. But it won’t be because I’m terminally ill. I don't want her pity, and she ’s not going to control my death the way she's controlled my life.”
The doorbell rang , and Kaylee jumped.
“Looks like you have company, and maybe I should see if my truck will start. Sometimes it changes its mind.” He fumbled with his keys.
Kaylee peeked out the window again. “Where are you going? I don’t think your truck is going to start.”
“I don’t want to crowd you or give your guests something to talk about.” He stepped toward the door.
“You’re not crowding me , and I don’t give a damn what they talk about. It’s pointless .” She gestured to the couch and touched his arm. “ Sit. Please. ”
Bastian looked at her imploring eyes and finally sat.
As Kaylee stepped into the foyer and peered through the stained glass window in the door, she saw the outline of Rosie Griggs.
“How did I know it was you,” she muttered, pulling open the door.
“There you are . You could have called St. Andrew’s and said you weren’t coming ,” Rosie said. She was a tall African - America woman in her late thirties with thick hair twisted into a bun. She wiggled a chiding finger at Kaylee.
From the other room, Bastian tried to block the voices, but he couldn’t, not when Rosie’s voice boomed loudly.
“I didn’t feel well this morning,” Kaylee said, l eaning against the door .
“You didn’t feel well enough to help out in the soup kitchen but you felt good enough to have some hottie over for breakfast? Looks like somebody’s been here a while …m aybe all night?” She pointed to Bastian’s truck.
Does she recognize his truck? Kaylee wondered. “My girlfriend from Newark, actually.”
“That don’t look like no girl’s truck.” Rosie pulled her hood over her head and cinched the string. “Me and the girls thought maybe you might be in the sack with your Prince Charming. He didn’t show, either.”
Kaylee coughed uncomfortably, leaning more heavily against the door frame. “Coincidence, I’m sure.”
“Are you all right?” Rosie asked.
Kaylee stood upright , and s he felt her cheeks redden. “Peachy, thanks.”
“How’s your head?” Rosie asked softly. “Is that why you were sick this morning?” She gently touched Kaylee’s shoulder.
“I’m just tired, that’s all. Nothing big.” Kaylee squirmed and nudged Rosie’s hand away. She stared at the ground, avoiding Rosie’s gaze. Goosebumps stippled Kaylee’s arms, and she folded them across her chest, trying to stay warm. Her breath funneled outwards and dissipated.
“You talked to your mama lately?” Rosie shifted her weight from one foot to the other and shook the snow from her galoshes. .
Kaylee nodded wearily. “Last week. She said she’d be home this week. I asked if that w ere a threat or a promise.”
“You did not.” Rosie grinned.
“I wanted to.” She pointed toward the living room. “Do you want to come in?”
Rosie shook her head. “Nah, girl. I just came to see if
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