Waiting for the Storm by Marie Landry Read Free Book Online Page A

they danced hypnotically in the light wind, and my eyelids grew heavier and heavier until they slid closed and I fell asleep.
     

CHAPTER FOUR
    Something was beeping. Was Mom heating lunch in the microwave? It was usually just the two of us for lunch since Ella was at school and Dad was at work. If she had the strength she’d sneak into the kitchen while I was asleep and heat up leftovers for lunch so it was ready when I got up. She said it wasn’t right that I took care of her all the time, and the least she could do was nuke lunch.
    I awoke with a smile on my face. When my eyes opened and I realized where I was, fresh grief hit me like a tidal wave, and I gasped in a breath, clutching at my tight chest. I wasn’t at home in my bed, and Mom wasn’t downstairs in the kitchen. Mom wasn’t anywhere. She was gone.
    This wasn’t the first time I’d woken up and forgotten Mom was gone; each time it was like losing her all over again. How long would this keep happening? How long would I have to go through the pain of losing her?
    The beeping that had woken me sounded again and I glanced over at the bedside table. My cell phone was flashing a low battery warning and beeping every few seconds. I grabbed for it and shut the power off, making a mental note to charge it later. I hardly ever used it—I had no one to call or text—but I kept it anyway, telling myself I might need it in an emergency.
    I flopped back down on the pillows and covered my eyes with my hands. Before I’d shut the phone off I noticed it was just after noon. I’d been sleeping for about six hours, and that would have to be good enough. I couldn’t go back to sleep and risk waking up and having to be reminded yet again that Mom wasn’t here.
    I rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. A quick shower made me feel slightly more human, and gave me a chance to add to the mental list I’d started earlier: call handyman to start work on the front porch, and find a way to the grocery store to stock up on food so we don’t all starve to death.
    Once I was dressed, I went downstairs. Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, fully dressed, shaved, hair brushed, and laptop open.
    I was so stunned, I blurted, “You’re working,” by way of greeting.
    Dad glanced up and smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sort of,” he replied, shuffling some papers beside the laptop. “Trying to, anyway. Don’t know if I’ll get very far.”
    I wasn’t sure what to say to that. At least you’re trying? Or perhaps I’m proud of you? Neither of them sounded right. “Good for you,” I finally said, crossing the room and laying a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’m going to call the handyman to get started on the porch, okay? Do you have the number?”
    Dad hunched over his laptop and squinted at the screen. “I called him,” he said absently, waving a hand toward the front of the house. “He’s out there already.”
    The shocks just kept coming. When I opened the fridge door and saw a carton of milk, some fresh fruit, and a package of deli meat had been added alongside the box of pizza from last night, I almost fell over. “You went shopping?”
    “Just made a quick run first thing this morning when I realized there was nothing for breakfast.” Dad glanced at me quickly before returning his gaze to the computer screen. I could have sworn he looked guilty. “Got a few things, but we’ll need to go back later and really stock up.”
    “Sure,” I said casually, pulling an apple from the fridge and taking it to the sink to rinse. “I can probably manage that.”
    “That’d be great,” he said distractedly, tapping away at the keyboard.
    I nodded even though he wasn’t looking. “Well then…I’ll just let you…” I trailed off; he wasn’t paying attention anymore. I figured I was lucky to get as much out of him as I did.
    I followed the faint sound of hammering toward the front of the house. I stood at the open door and looked