Page 58 of Let's Pretend I'm Okay

I pat my belly. “It smells delicious.”

Mama beams, eyes glistening.

I lean on the counter, watching her cook. She’s off in her own little world, humming as she stirs the soup.

“Did you call the hospital yet?”

“Why? Do you think I need to take you there? I can drive you right now if—”

“Not for me. For you. Have you thought about going back to work?”

She freezes, holding her ladle still. “No.”

“You said you’d think about it.”

“I’m still thinking,” she says.

I rack my brain trying to figure out what I can do to encourage her to make the right decision. “Maybe we should go visit. I bet the other nurses you used to work with would be happy to see you.”

“Right now I have a lot on my plate. I’m trying to work on some of the house projects I’ve been putting off.”

This is the first I’ve heard of “house projects” and I doubt she’s working on them. I know most days she cleans to avoid thinking about my future, and on the days when she can’t ignore it, I come home to her eyes puffy from crying. Sheneeds a distraction, a new focus. If only I could help her see that.

Mama hands me a bowl of soup and a slice of garlic bread. “I’ll think about it some more, but right now please go eat this. I need you to keep your energy up.”

She doesn’t have to tell me twice. I gladly take it to the table. I lean in to smell the delicious salty broth.

I take bite after bite until I’m scraping the bowl clean. I stand and take my dishes to the dishwasher. Then, I roll my sleeves up and start washing the dishes Mama used to make the soup.

“Let me do that,” Mama says, running back into the kitchen.

“It’s okay. I got it.” I rinse off one of the measuring cups and set it on the top rack.

Mama shimmies her way in between me and the sink, pushing me away. “Your cousin Jeffrey once went an entire day without eating, then cut his finger while doing the dishes because the lack of food almost caused him to go blind.”

I know that’s not true, and I know she doesn’t believe it either. At least I hope she doesn’t.

I laugh. “Alright. If you really want to do them, knock yourself out.”

Mama nods. “Thank you. Go do something fun.”

Fun?I have no idea what that would be. Annie isn’t home so it’s not like I can watch a movie with her. I don’t feel like leaving the house, and all my friends are at school. Then I remember the notebook I bought. I still haven’t decorated it. I always decorate the inside cover. It’s my way of making it my own.

“Okay, I’ll be in my room,” I tell her. “Thanks for the soup. It was amazing.”

She grins and gently pinches my cheek. “Anything for you, love.”

I race back to my room. Sitting down at my desk, I take the notebook out of my bag and set it in front of me. The gorgeous pink notebook stares back at me. I slip the strap off it and open it up. I doodle with my pen, drawing flowers and fruit until it’s covered halfway. I set my pen to the side and stretch my hand. It’s starting to cramp, which is my cue to take a break, but before I do, I transfer my plan for Mama, Papa, and Annie from my old notebook.

My door flies open and Annie comes rushing in. She slams the door and faceplants on to her bed. She kicks her feet into the air, and then she rolls over, staring up at the ceiling with big eyes.

“So . . . what happened?” I ask.

“Daniel gave me his number.” She covers her mouth, hiding her silent scream.

No, no, no.

Why would he do that? He’s not supposed to be sweeping Annie off her feet. He’s supposed to be scaring her off with his careless personality.

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