Page 31 of Sassy Love
CARLIE
Itoss clothes into my oversized luggage as Mills sits on the end of my bed, hands wrapped around her mug. The scent of her chamomile tea infuses through my room.
“I’ll be fine, sweetheart. I’m not a child. I’ve been taking care of myself for decades.”
“I know, but what if something happens and I’m not here?” I stop packing, and her hand rests over mine. The stone that swelled in my airway at the thought of leaving Mills here alone only grows.
“You like this job, right?” Mills sets her mug on my bedside and shuffles closer.
With her dressing gown on and rollers in, she looks like Sophia fromThe Golden Girls. My heart squeezes in my chest. She’s my adopt-a-grandma, my best friend. My reason to fight for everything.
“Yes,” I breathe.
“Good. Well, you’re going. It’s only a week, and I have this thing called a cell phone. I’ll send you a text every day, okay?”
“Fine.” I sit on the bed next to her. “What if I can’t move past this? What if Rawlins and I can’t figure this baggage out?”
She tilts her head. “My precious girl. You can do absolutely anything you put your mind to. I saw that the day I met you. Heavens above, you saved my life. You’ve already done the hardest thing a person can ever do.” Silver lines her eyes. “Now, it’s past this little old lady’s bedtime. Night, sweetheart.”
“Night, Mills,” I choke out.
She forgot her mug.
I chuckle at her forgetfulness. But an hour later, it’s the little things that could go wrong that have me tossing and turning.
What if she forgets to turn off the stove. What if she forgets to lock the front door or to look before crossing the street...
So much for sleep.
My alarm snaps me out of my restless sleep. On a fucking Sunday. I fumble for my phone. It slides from the bedside to the floor.
“Fuck,” I groan.
Rolling over, I toss the blankets off and sit up on the side of the bed. My phone lights up again. A text.
From . . . Rawlins.
Urgh.
Carpool?
Not likely.
Um, I meant, can I bum a lift?
Are you serious?
This son of a bitch doesn’t have a car?
Fine. But we’re splitting the gas. And one syllable about my driving and you’re walking.
Righto, Rubes.
Huh?
Who the hell is Rubes?
Perplexed, I shower and dress and double-check I have everything before doing a thorough run-through with Millie on safety stuff while I’m gone.
