Page 25 of Making It While Faking It
I sink down on the foot of the bed. I should still leave, though. I should pack my suitcase and get the hell out of Dodge.
The Northeast Garden
TREASURE GROVE
What is that sound?
I open one eye, and that brings me closer to fully waking up. There it goes again. It’s my cell phone. But my arms feel glued to the mattress, and my brain is foggy. Instead of opening the other eye, I close the one that was open.
“Dang it,” I mumble as the classic ringtone erupts for the third time and then stops.
Last night after dinner, I didn’t pack my suitcase and escape to my apartment. The adrenaline burst I got from being angry at Achilles only lasted so long. As soon as I stepped into my bedroom, the comfort of the space affected my mood. He really did do a fantastic job designing this space. Everything is so… right. The walls are the right color. The temperature is perfect. And the bed,ohthe bed, it’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on.
So I measured my aching head, scratchy throat, and lethargic limbs against my diminishing anger. That’s when I stripped out of my clothes, brushed my teeth, washed off my makeup, and slid into bed.
At first, I couldn’t fall asleep. The view of the bright sky burned my eyes. Then I saw the blackout blinds pinned to the top of the windows and located the lever attached to the bottom of the feature wall. I flipped the lever up, the blinds came down, and when it fell pitch black, just like it is now, I could finally get the shut-eye I needed.
My cell phone rings yet again, and this time, I make a valiant effort to swing my arm across my body to swipe my device off the bedside table. I groan as I roll onto my stomach because my head feels like a gong is knocking around inside it. And my body, forget about it. My joints and muscles feel as though I spent an hour in the gym struggling through a HIIT workout before going to bed.
The light from the screen of my cell phone illuminates my face. My mom’s name on the screen makes me struggle to sit up against the headboard.
I take note of the time before I answer. It’s 6:54 p.m.
“Yikes,” I breathe as anxiety, like flesh-eating fish, descends on me.
After a deep sigh filled with dread, I answer.
“Mom?” I say tiredly.
“Are you asleep?” Her loud voice is like a slap to my brain. She sounds appalled.
“If I were asleep, I wouldn’t be answering your call.” I hate being snippy with her, but because I feel so awful, my filter is broken.
“You’re late. We left without you. I’ve been calling you for over an hour. If you hadn’t answered this time, I was going to call Achilles to have him check on you. Unless you’ve left his condo?”
“No,” I say with a sigh. Not yet.
“Okay, well, we’re sending the helicopter back to collect you. Be at the landing pad by seven thirty.”
She pauses, waiting for me to make the easiest response. I rub my throbbing temples. Maybe I have a head cold, because whatever’s happening in my brain is causing enough discomfort to make me want to crawl back in bed and sleep some more.
“Mom, I’m not feeling so hot.” I throw the warm covers off of me, and chills flutter across my skin as I plod to the bathroom and clutch the edge of the vanity as I try to breathe past a bout of nausea.
“Do you have the flu?” She sounds as if my condition irritates her.
“I’m just stress sick, I think.”
“Okay, well, just come to dinner and tough it out, Treasure. Your grandmother insists that we all be there. It’s important to her.”
Now, how did I know she was going to say that? I don’t think she’s wrong. I’ve been toughing it out for ten years, and actually before then too. However, my mom is right. Tonight is about Grandmother. Plus, I want to see her so much and hug her. One big hug and all my stress will roll down the drain, and what’s ailing me will magically disappear. That’s the effect my grandmother has on me, on the world.
“Seven thirty, don’t be late. Take two Tylenol. That should help,” Londyn throws in for good measure.
I stand upright, winning that battle with nausea, and roll my eyes. “Seven thirty it is.”
I down twoextra-strength Tylenol and two vitamin C tablets and then wait for the moment the effects of both kick in. This is not going to be an easy night to get through. But I’ve already made up in my mind what I’ll do. I’ll hug Gran, make a plan to meet her for brunch or dinner next week, and then have the helicopter bring me back to the city. I can’t stay. I can’t eat. I’m not hungry.
I drag myself to my closet and put on my lime-green cardigan sweater dress. It’s what I wear whenever I want to look presentable but feel comfortable. Suddenly, a wave of chills sizzles up and down my body.
