All Chapters of Unexpected Arrivals: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

"How are you holding up, honey?" Dottie handed me a cup of coffee and took a seat next to me on the deck. Staring out at the horizon, I watched the sky color itself in a rainbow of oranges and pinks. Life in Geneva Key was different than Chicago, not better or worse. "Some days are better than others." My gaze shifted from the artwork on the horizon to the woman I'd known and loved my entire life. "It scares me to think I'm going to lose her, and that if I don't remember her, there won't be anyone around to share with the world how amazing she was." Dottie patted my leg just like my mother would have done, and I wondered if she'd picked up the habit watching her over the years, or if she'd always been nurturing. "I think she'll always be in your heart. And as long as she's there, her memory will survive. Your mother has touched the lives of more people than you could ever imagine." "My entire life, I knew this day would come. She never hid from me what the disease would

Cora called Sunday night to see how things had gone at my dad's party. It was nice to hear her voice, even if the conversations were surface level and came at two in the morning—time zones were a killer, but I didn't give a shit. I'd make it work to hear her sing in my ear every time she said "hello." We never discussed anything of importance, yet somehow, the familiarity seemed to spark what both of us had missed in our relationship the last year before she'd left. I'd set aside my hope for salvaging the us part of the equation—temporarily—in favor of rebuilding the friendship. Neither of us had said those three magic words, or even mentioned the possibility of getting back together. However, every time we hung up the phone, we told the other we missed them. It had taken the place of the intimacy while confirming the tie. "I'm sorry I haven't checked on you before now." Her apology seemed forced or maybe uncertain, or it could be the fog of sleep still hovering in my mind.

"James, I swear, dating men in Paris is like dating hell in the United States. For a city that's filled with love, these guys have no idea how to treat a lady." I abhorred hearing her talk about other men, although I secretly smiled each time she told me about a date gone wrong. None of them had been horrible; they just weren't me. Cora had yet to figure that part out; she assumed it was the men, when in fact, most women would have swooned at the accent alone. "They dress like pop stars, James. A guy shouldn't look better in skinny jeans than his date. And they pair them with fitted shirts. It's like boy band gone wrong." I couldn't help but laugh. "Cora, not every guy in France dresses like Justin Bieber." "The ones I've met do." "Maybe it's the industry you're meeting them in. Aren't they all rather artistic in some form or fashion?" "No." The humor danced in her voice. "What gave you that idea?" "I just figured engineers were artsy." I shrugged as

I kissed her cheek and told her how much I loved her before I left. Each visit became progressively harder; she'd lost weight living on a liquid diet, and her eyes were tired—not sleepy, but weary. I felt like I should offer her permission to let go; however, selfishly, I wasn't there yet. I wanted to hold on for another day, another week, another year. There would never come a point where I could open the gate to eternity for her. I'd always need her, and not even Dottie could take her place. Dottie waited for me to say goodbye just outside the room. It had become our routine. She always gave me time alone with my mom. She did it in case it was the last time I got to see her. And while I refused to believe the door closing behind me could take my mother with it, I appreciated her consideration all the same. I hadn't let my mom see me cry—she couldn't console me, so the tears seemed selfish. But as I left today, Dottie took me in her arms and kissed my temple. I didn't have t

My hands trembled as I handed the money to the cashier at the drug store. When I grabbed the plastic bag and my receipt, the rustling sound echoed in my ears like thunder. My arm jerked in response, and I felt like a spaz when the guy behind the counter stared at me with wide eyes. "Thank you." I tried to smile, although the awkward grin did nothing other than earn a confused stare in return. I hadn't asked Dottie to bring me because I refused to admit what I needed. Yet now that I was carrying a bag from the pharmacy, I wasn't sure how I would explain what I'd picked up on my walk. My legs got stiff a lot, and she never questioned how long I was gone, though I never wanted to give her a reason not to trust me, either. Lost in my thoughts, I took the wrong turn, and it ended up taking me another fifteen minutes to find my way back to the cottage. Thankfully, when I walked in, Dottie wasn't home. She'd left a note on the counter informing me she'd gone to the grocery store. I