Free When I'm Gone: A Novel by Emily Bleeker Page B

calling her phone, they didn’t know she was dead. That meant he’d have to tell them. He glanced at the screen, but the caller ID displayed a random set of unfamiliar numbers, which was confusing and a relief at the same time. He pressed the talk button after looking each kid in the eye with a finger to his lips.
    “Hello?” Luke answered.
    A woman’s voice responded.
    “Hello. I’m looking for Mr. Richardson. This is Ms. Mason from Shepard High School. I’m Will’s guidance counselor.”
    The school was calling Natalie’s number? Maybe they tried the home phone first. Luke turned the ringer off a long time ago and never switched it back on. The silence was refreshing.
    “This is Luke,” he responded. “Can you hold on one second?”
    “Of course.”
    Luke covered the mouthpiece and whispered to May, “Go pop in some waffles from the freezer. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
    “But Mommy always made pink pancakes on Valentine’s Day,” May pouted. There was no way he’d have enough time to make Nat’s pancakes and get everyone out the door.
    “Maybe we can have them for dinner if you can get your little brother his breakfast.”
    “Yes, yes, yes!” May perked up and nodded her head fast. “Come on, Clayton; time for breakfast.” She grabbed the hand that wasn’t lodged in his mouth and guided him out of the room.
    Luke put the phone back up to his ear. “Sorry about that.”
    “Totally fine.” She paused briefly. “I’m calling to see if you can come in later today for a meeting about Will.”
    “Is there a problem?” Luke pulled himself off the floor and on the bed, lightheaded.
    “I want to touch base with you on how he’s doing after losing his mother. He’s had a few issues at school in the past few weeks that seem a little out of character for him. I’d love the opportunity to talk to you, maybe get your input. Could you come by around four?”
    It sounded like something he definitely didn’t want to do, today or ever, but what could he say—no?
    “Sure. I’ll be there.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Richardson. Have a nice day. Oh, and happy Valentine’s Day!”
    “Bye,” he mumbled and hung up the phone. Yeah, sounded like it was shaping up to be a great Valentine’s Day.

CHAPTER 6
    He’d been sitting in the same uncomfortable chair for the past forty-five minutes. After the first ten minutes, Luke brought out a few of the latest letters. He’d stopped carrying the whole pile. Now every morning, he selected a few of his favorites from the shoebox by the side of his bed. Then, he would carefully place the newest one on top. He usually avoided reading them in public—too many questions—but in this case he’d rather read Natalie’s thoughts than another college brochure for Michigan State.
     
    DAY 44
     
    Dear Luke,
    I’m writing this as I’m getting my third treatment. I remembered to bring a sweater today. Too bad they can’t warm the infusion before putting it in your port. Room temperature is definitely not 98.6 degrees. Brr.
    I thought I’d write to you now since I’ll probably be sick later. This is what I get for wanting to lose ten pounds, isn’t it? I’d definitely take fifty extra pounds over this. Turns out skinny isn’t my best look. Maybe it’s the baldness, but I think I look like one of those aliens from your sci-fi movies—gray skin, no hair, and bulging eyes. Thank heavens for wigs, fake eyelashes, and drawn-on eyebrows. I think I do a good impression of human on most days.
    I hate this. I want to feel better. Will I ever feel better? If you’re reading this, I guess the answer is no. I’ve been thinking about my prognosis lately. Why did I have to get some crazy rare type of soft tissue sarcoma? Why couldn’t I have found that lump on my shoulder blade before the cancer got into my lymph nodes? Stage III. Beatable? For sure. Scary? For sure.
    Even if we get through the next two rounds of chemo, we still have surgery and radiation and then even