“It just always seems like there’s one just waiting to fall.”
“There is. It’s life. It’s what happens,” she laughs. “But you’ll be okay. You’ll survive. Look at all you’ve survived already.”
She’s right. I know that. I pride myself on being a survivor and not a victim. But that doesn’t make it easier to change the way I see the world.
“I’m not telling you what to do,” she says, “but I think you need to inventory your life. Decide what you want in it and what you don’t. And be prepared to live with those choices.”
Her words hit me like a dose of cold water. I glance at the clock and see it’s way too late to call Ford now.
“I’ll give him a call in the morning,” I tell her. “We’ll see if we can work it out.”
“Good girl. You’re meeting Heath and I in the morning at eight, right? We’re supposed to figure out how to style the mannequins.”
“I’ll be there. And, Vi?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being such a good friend to me.”
“You’re welcome.”
I hang up the phone and head to my room. This time, when I lay my head down, I’m lulled to sleep by Ford’s laugh.
Ellie
“YOU LOOK LIKE CRAP.” HEATH makes a face as he breezes by me and falls dramatically in the recliner. “And I thought I was having a bad hair day.”
“That key was for emergencies,” I tell him. “That’s the second time you’ve just barged in. I’m going to take it away.”
“Would you rather have dragged your sorry butt off the couch? I could’ve knocked,” he points out.
“He’s been this way all day,” Violet sighs, picking up my legs and sitting on the end of the sofa. She drops my feet on her lap. “How ya feeling?”
“Meh. I feel like I’ve been lit on fire and stomped on.” Rolling over to my side, I look at Heath. “The yellow polo shirt looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” he grins. “I thought I looked pretty banging in it.”
“Has Ford called today?” Violet asks.
I give her a look.
“He called me,” she offers. “He was worried when I told him you didn’t meet us this morning. I’m supposed to check in with him later. He said he had a meeting with his brothers later today.”
“Can you imagine that board meeting?” Heath asks. “It’s like a game of How Many Hotties Can We Fit in One Room?”
We all laugh. For the first time in the last two days, I don’t feel like I’m at death’s door. My stomach isn’t gurgling and my head doesn’t feel as stuffed with cotton.
I sniffle to be sure.
“You have the flu or what?” Violet asks. “I was in the bakery this morning and they were saying lots of people have come down with a nasty bug.”
“I guess. My dad has it too. I called him a few minutes ago and he said he’s been in bed since yesterday. Just feeling wiped out.”
Heath adjusts in his seat. “Is that how you feel? Wiped out?”
“Does it look like I’ve gotten off this couch in a couple of days?” I laugh. “I just want to sleep. But on the bright side, I think I’ve lost five pounds.”
His eyes snap to Violet’s. Something, not vomit this time, rumbles in my stomach. “What?”