Page 5 of Old-Fashioned

He nodded, and then said, “I don’t know if you will find comfort in this, but I know I would. She only did the cancer treatment so she could stay here longer for you. The doctors gave her a few months without the treatment, but she tried to fight it. She wanted to see you finally happy before she left.”

I nodded.

His words didn’t help. But I knew they would when the shock wore off that she was indeed gone.

“I have some papers I need you to sign if you’re ready?” He asked as he grabbed a stack and a pen.

I simply nodded.

My whole world felt like it was spinning all around me, while I was simply sitting still.

I didn’t remember him giving me his business card.

I didn’t remember tucking the packet of things he handed me into my bag.

I didn’t remember him placing a call to his son and telling him to make sure I got home safely.

***

Opening my eyes, I groaned, carefully, so as to not jar my head anymore, I reached for the bottle on my little stool beside my bed. It was just big enough to hold a lamp, my phone, and my medicine.

Taking two pills dry, I sat the bottle back down, and then carefully lowered my head back on my pillow.

I knew what had brought the migraine on, it was the tears I had shed as soon as I crossed through the door.

I couldn’t believe she was gone.

A memory from a few months ago of the two of us enjoying the sunshine at the park with a picnic we had thrown together… tears immediately assaulted my eyes.

No, don’t make it worse, Birdie. Don’t you do it.

Sadly, I didn’t have the superpower of telling my tears not to roll from my eyes.

Do you know the fastest way to utterly exhaust yourself? Crying yourself to sleep.

Chapter 1

Birdie

The next morning when I woke up, I had decided to head to the library for another job search, that had been until I had seen a notice tacked to my front door.

And when I saw they were raising the rent due to the economy in our area exploding, I closed my door and dropped to my knees.

I hadn’t been able to believe that all of this was happening.

Was life determined to hit me with a one-two punch?

After a few moments of no-nonsense crap filling my brain, I recalled the packet of stuff that Mr. Anderson had handed me.

Getting up off my butt I walked to my bag and then pulled out the packet.

Once I was settled on my bed, I carefully opened the packet and then pulled the papers out and read through them.

And once my brain registered what my eyes were seeing, I dropped the papers in a hurry.

I almost screamed. What. The. Hell.

Was this some sort of joke?

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