Miles to Go by Richard Paul Evans Read Free Book Online

“I just need to pop some corn. You can’t properly watch a movie without popcorn.”
    A few minutes later she came out with a sack of microwave popcorn. She inserted a disk into her DVD player. “If I had been thinking ahead, I would have rented number eighteen for tonight.”
    “What’s eighteen?”
    “Alfred Hitchcock.
Psycho.”
She switched off the floor lamp, grabbed one of the pillows from the couch, then lay down across the floor in front of the sofa.
    “You’re sitting down there?”
    “I like sitting on the floor. Feel free to own the couch.”
    I lay on my side and hit the button to start the movie.

    It was past eleven when the movie ended. Angel stood up and turned on the lights. “That was good.”
    “I forgot that Richard Dreyfuss was in that,” I said, “a very young Richard Dreyfuss.”
    “And Suzanne Somers and Cindy Williams. That movie launched a dozen sitcoms.”
    “What’s next on the list?” I asked.
    “It’s supposed to be
City Lights.”
    “I’ve never heard of it.”
    “It’s an old Charlie Chaplin movie.”
    “A Charlie Chaplin film,” I said, happy that one of his movies was on the list.
    “It’s considered one of the last great silent films. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy to find. I ordered it online, but it hasn’t come yet.” She went to her front door and opened it, stooping over to pick up the candy bowl. There was still candy inside. “You were wrong. There is hope for the next generation. Have a Milky Way.” She threw me a miniature candy bar.
    “This is the ultimate spin,” I said.
    “What is?”
    “They cut the bar to a fraction of its size then call it ‘fun-size.’ There’s nothing fun at all about a smaller candy bar. It’s all in the spin.”
    “Just like life,” she said.
    I nodded. “Just like life.”
    She walked back to me. “I’ll help you up.” She tookboth of my hands, leaning back to pull me up from the couch.
    I groaned as I stood. “Getting up is always the hard part.”
    “Can I get you anything before bed?”
    “No. I’m good. So what are you going to do when you finish watching the one hundred movies?”
    She looked at me with a strange expression. “Then I’ll be done.” The way she said it struck me as peculiar.
    She smiled. “I’ll probably be gone to work by the time you get up, so I’ll just leave breakfast ready for you. Don’t forget to take your pain pills with food, and I’ll put the Saran Wrap in the bathroom.”
    “Saran Wrap?”
    “Remember, you’re not supposed to get your bandages wet. Norma said no baths for at least a week, and when you shower you should cover your bandages with cellophane.”
    I nodded, impressed that she had remembered.
    “She said it works best to just wrap the Saran around your body a couple times. It’s not a big deal if your bandages get a little damp.”
    “You’re a very good nurse.”
    “I do my best.”
    I shuffled toward my room with Angel by my side. When I got to my door, I turned to her. “Thanks for everything. You’re more than a good nurse, you’re a good person.”
    She looked into my eyes with a light I could not read. “I wish that were true,” she said, then disappeared into her room.

CHAPTER

Nine
    Today I made it to the front walk. I don’t know if I should be happy for my achievement or depressed that I consider it one.
    Alan Christoffersen’s diary
    Angel was gone by the time I woke the next morning. She left a note for me on the kitchen table.
    Breakfast in oven to warm. OJ in fridge. Please turn off oven. I’ll be home around five
.
    Have a good day, Angel
    I walked over to the oven and, with some effort, leaned over and opened the door. Inside was a square pan with what looked like a baked omelet—a frittata, I guess it would be called. She didn’t need to go to so much trouble, since I’d be just as happy with a bowl of Wheaties.
    I turned off the oven, grabbed the pot holder she’d left on the counter, and brought out the pan.