Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 147(@300wpm)
“I remember you mentioned a couple of years ago how much you love magnolia trees,” he answers softly. I try to remember when I told him. I can’t remember if that was before or after the memorial service I held for my brother.
Bronco was mad, said we shouldn’t give up hope. But he’s been missing in action for three years, and I know my brother. If he could have reached out to me, he would have by now. Which means I’m alone in this world.
The thought makes the lump in my throat grow even bigger, and I have to swallow it down. “Anyway, the magnolia tree was my favorite place. I’d always go under the branches to hold tea parties or read my favorite books or even just to think. It was my special little place.”
I pause for a moment there, lost in the memories of simpler, happier times. Is it that life truly was easier in the past or is nostalgia just grief romanticized?
Bronco doesn’t say anything. He lets me be lost without demanding anything, and I think maybe that’s a forgotten art, the willingness to sit with a friend in pain and grief and remain unflinchingly steady.
I glance at the water spot that’s grown so much darker and bigger. When I made the call to Bronco it was as big as a dinner plate. Now, it’s the size of six dinner plates, and there’s not much I can do to stop it. Not without stopping water to the entire building.
The retirement home has been having problems. Old pipes are regularly bursting, but it’s too expensive to get them replaced all at once. Instead, we have to wait for them to burst then do our best to patch everything. The insurance company that my aunt pays an outrageous amount of money to every year has declared the problem as not covered, so it’s on us to figure things out.
I will never understand how it’s legal for insurance companies to pick and choose what they cover. It seems they take a lot of money only to be very little help when it’s truly needed.
Fortunately, Dalton, one of the men who works here, and Bronco, both know enough about pipes that they’ve been fixing them. Normally, I’d have told my aunt by now. But I don’t want to disturb her late in the night. Not with all the stress she’s under.
I finally remember that I’m on the phone with Bronco, and continue my story, “I was in high school when Vale built me a bench and put it under there. He did it for my birthday, and it was the best gift I ever got.”
It’s gone now.
The bench.
The tree.
My brother.
During a summer storm one night, the magnolia tree was hit by lightning and caught fire. It collapsed on the bench, and there was nothing to be saved from either.
The next morning, the news came.
My brother was missing in action.
“He loved you a lot,” Bronco says.
Of course he did, Vale and I were best friends despite the ten year age gap between us. We were buddies, not because we shared DNA but simply because we chose to be. Then he had to go and leave me.
“Do you have a favorite memory?” I ask softly, feeling shy even as I say the words. Bronco is good at encouraging me to talk, but he rarely answers my questions directly. I’m not sure if he’s shy too or if he finds me annoying. My heart twists at the thought. Please let him just be shy.
“I’m here,” he says instead of answering. Is it crazy that I wish he’d still been driving? That I wish he’d have finally opened up and told me something about himself? I only know what I’ve managed to glean from Vale.
“I’ll get you buzzed in,” I tell him, disconnecting the call quickly. I slip into a pair of kitten heels left strewn by my front door and leave my room. I live in the retirement community, the same as my aunt does. We have our own rooms here, just like the residents. Each space comes with a living area, kitchenette, bathroom, and bedroom. It’s a cozy place, and no one knows it’s teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. No one but me and Aunt Elaine.
I hurry down the hall to the reception area where Ryan’s gaze is flicking between a thriller he’s reading and the security camera feeds. He’s been working here for years, always standing guard to make sure no one leaves when they shouldn’t. We only have a couple of dementia patients at a time, but their confusion worsens once the sun goes down.
I clear my throat, and he glances toward me. I’m not usually up at this hour, let alone asking him to buzz in visitors. “Can you buzz in Bronco? We have another water leak. This one is in a residential room.”