Of Literature and Lattes by Katherine Reay

Author:Katherine Reay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2020-05-11T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Alyssa unlocked the back door and stood in the dark kitchen. It was as cool and silent as the day she came home almost three weeks before. What saddened her now was not how lifeless and void it felt, but how different it might have been, could be at this very moment, if only she could let it.

She crossed through the kitchen and stood at the bottom of the stairs. In the dim light of the moon shining through the windows, only the bright dots of yellow, silver, and white within her favorite painting could be seen. It felt as if she were looking at an endless night sky, unable to see where the painting stopped and the wall began. She felt small. Insignificant. But rather than upset her, it was a wonderful diminishing. Tonight it made her feel like something bigger existed, and all this would pass away and, as Jeremy said, she’d be okay. That’s what the painting had always given her: a place—albeit small—to stand. Tonight it gave her hope. She touched her lips, reliving a little more hope and something even sweeter.

She climbed the stairs and paused outside her mom’s bedroom door. It was open, but it was as neat as when Alyssa had left the house that morning. She suspected Janet was staying later at her studio within the bookshop to give her space. Space she wasn’t sure she wanted.

Acid burned her stomach, and she turned back down the hall to her own room. She needed more Tums. Lexi had pulled out all the stops tonight but, Alyssa moaned, that didn’t mean she should have eaten it all.

She popped a few more Tums, brushed her teeth, and crawled into bed—only to wake what felt like moments later in a cold sweat. At least she thought she was awake. She couldn’t clear the fog from her head. It felt like she was thinking through water. Her stomach was on fire and she ached. Her whole body ached, not just her back, but her fingers and her ankles. Even her shoulder felt tender against the pillow. Everything throbbed as she tried to roll over again. She felt herself curl tight with the pain. Then cold shot through her brain.

“Alyssa? Alyssa?”

She pushed against the bed. Her wrists hurt. She tried to gain distance from the cold.

“She has a fever.”

Alyssa felt her shoulder shake. The movement reverberated down her spine.

“Honey? Do you hear me?”

“Can they burst?” She spoke through fog, her mouth now full of cotton. She wondered if her lips were cracking with the effort. Her words tasted like a dry biscuit.

“Can what burst?”

“Ulcers.”

“She has ulcers?” Janet’s voice lifted. Alyssa knew she was talking to someone else and not to her.

“Get her up.”

Dad. Alyssa frowned. He sounded upset. He should be, she thought. Mom cheated on him. She wiggled from someone’s cold hands. “I want to sleep.”

“Hold still.” Janet spoke again. “We’re taking you to the hospital.”

Alyssa fully woke to find her dad pushing her in a wheelchair and her mom walking next to her.

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