Mom presses, “I mean it. If you need anything—”
A ring of a bell cuts her off and both of us turn our heads to Olivia’s room. We bought her that bell after her initial chemo treatment so she could call us in. She threw it at Cyrus and told him to shove the bell up his ass. She hates acting like a victim. “I hear the grumble of your voice, Oz. Get in here and give me answers.”
“She needs sleep.” Mom wavers on her feet and I despise the circles under her eyes. “But she won’t settle down until she finds out what’s going on with Emily.”
“I’ll take care of her.” I hold my hand out. “And I’ll get the picture back to her.”
Mom digs the photo out and gives it to me. “This isn’t the life I wanted for you. I had hoped you’d choose something different.”
Something within me shifts and my forehead furrows. What the hell? Mom collapses against the wall and scrubs her face with her hands. A pang of worry ricochets through me. There probably isn’t a person in this house who has slept in days. Because of that, I let her comment go. College Mom mentions, but walking away from Snowflake and the club—never. Exhaustion is causing everyone to talk nonsense.
I wrap an arm around my mother and pull her into me. She hugs me back and I kiss the top of her head. “Get some sleep.”
“Promise me you’ll sleep, as well.”
“Sure.” Whenever I can.
“Izzy?” Dad stands at the end of the hallway in the living room. He surveys both of us and I hide the picture from view. If I had a patch on my back, I’d be required to tell Eli what Olivia divulged to Emily. For once, I’m happy I’m not currently under that obligation.
“You ready to go home?” he asks Mom.
Mom sends me that sad smile again before seeking the shelter of my father’s body.
“You gonna man up tomorrow about falling asleep on the job?” my father asks as he hugs Mom.
“Yeah,” I answer, then jack my thumb in the opposite direction of him. “I’m going to sit with Olivia.”
He nods his approval and I leave my parents behind as I head into the room of the one person I can’t imagine living without.
Emily
I SUCK IN a large intake of air and roll to my side. On instinct, I reach for James, but then remember that he’s not in my bed anymore. I banished the pink elephant that I slept with for years to my dresser back in middle school. It was my way of breaking a bad habit, but for some reason, I still wake up searching.
My entire body except for my brain is zoned out. My muscles are warm and heavy and I must have swum too much with Dad then had a long run with Trisha... My eyes snap open... I’m not home and I’ve been separated from my mom and dad.
A puff of air to my face and there are two large dark eyes. Adrenaline shakes through me, my mouth gapes and a scream ravages my throat, but no sound escapes. I scramble back as the eyes inch closer. I push away. Kick at covers, but I become ensnarled and entangled. The eyes lunge forward and then they...lick?
Hot, sticky wetness across my face, on my cheeks, in my hair. Ugh. The smell of wet dog engulfs me. My hand grabs the muzzle of the beast in my bed and I nudge it away, but the drool monster keeps returning.
“Get down, Lars.” Eli rakes a hand over his short hair as he sits up on the long window seat. A pillow crease streaks across his cheek and he has the groggy appearance that accompanies just being woken. Eli wears the same white T-shirt as last night, the same pair of jeans and his leather vest hangs on the post of the bed.
I shake my head and rub my eyes. Sleeping Beauty must have been seriously disoriented after she woke up, but then she slept for years and me—I’ve obviously only slept an hour or so. “What time is it?”
“Too early to be awake,” Eli answers. “Go back to sleep, Emily. Your mom mentioned you don’t like the dark, woods or the unfamiliar so she said Olivia’s would make you uncomfortable. I’ll stay up if it’ll make you feel better.”
A pang of hurt shoots through me that she’d tell Eli, or anyone, my fear.
Another huff of warm air on my arm and the basset hound blinks at me before easing onto its hind legs to sit—while still on the bed. Nice to see it listened to Eli’s earlier command. Lars opens his mouth to allow his overly large pink tongue to spill out the side. He pants bad dog breath and looks at me like he’s smirking.
I detest dogs.
I wipe the slobber off my face then choke down the dry heave. Thick drool clings from finger to finger. Bad form to now deposit the slime anywhere else. Eli stands, pulls a white handkerchief out of his pocket and offers it to me. “Here.”
I accept the folded white square and take my time drying off my hand. According to the clock on the dresser it’s six in the morning and it’s too early to be attacked by drool. “When can I talk to Mom and Dad?”
“Soon,” Eli says. “They’ve moved locations. Once you get some sleep, I’ll take you to them.”