Free The Fourteen Day Soul Detox by Rita Stradling

car.
I mean, she wasn’t really a kid, but young. I don’t think
I should be driving. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,”
My voice was thick with the tears that started pouring down my face.
    “I bet I can guess if you let
me,” she said.
    “Please do,” I said while
wiping the tears from my face. “Unless you’re going to
tell me I’m losing my mind, because then I don’t want to
know.”
    “When’s the last time you
ate anything?” she asked.
    Putting my head in my hands, I started
sniffling. “Oh, crap,” I said.
    “Love, your brain needs calories
to function, go make yourself a fucking sandwich then call me back.”
    “Okay,” I said, hanging up.
    Walking back into the kitchen, I looked
into fridge scanning the contents. It was full of veggies and fruit,
and ingredients to all our favorite dishes, but in the end, I grabbed
a frozen meal out of the freezer.
    “Want a snack, angel?” I
asked Sarah.
    “Apples and peanut butter,”
she said.
    “I’m waiting for another
word, a polite word,” I told her as I poked holes in the
plastic cover on the frozen enchilada plate.
    “Apples and peanut butter…
please!” she said the last word with enthusiasm.
    I laughed to myself as I dialed the
front office on my phone. Holding the phone to my ear with one hand,
I grabbed out an apple and held it under cold faucet water it with
the other hand.
    The dial tone rang three times before I
heard a woman pick up. “Sunset Estates, this is Denise,”
she said.
    “Hi Denise, is Richard there?”
I asked. Using my shoulder to hold my phone to my ear, I grabbed out
a cutting board and knife.
    “Sorry, he’s gone for the
weekend. Can I take a message?” she asked.
    “Um, I guess. This is Jamie Scott
in apartment thirty-six B. Richard said he was looking into finding
another apartment in the complex for my daughter and me to switch
over to.”
    “Sorry, that really is something
you’ll have to speak to Richard about,” she said. “I’ll
definitely leave a message for him if you want, though.”
    “Yes, please do. Will you say
it’s pretty urgent? I already told him why,” I said.
    “I will, and that’s Jamie
Scott in…?”
    “Thirty-six B,” I said.
    “Got it, Jamie. You have a good
weekend,” she said.
    “Thanks, you too,” I said,
setting the phone back down.
    I cut up the apple, putting a small
dollop of peanut butter on the plate. When I set the plate in front
of Sarah, she said, “More peanut butter.”
    “Nope,” I said, grabbing an
apple slice and dipping it in the peanut butter.
    “Hey, Mommy, that’s not
yours,” she said.
    “But it’s so delicious, I
just can’t help myself,” I said, tickling her side and
making her giggle.
    Taking the tray out of the microwave, I
pulled away the plastic and ducked back from the cloud of hot steam
that poured up.
    I sat down beside Sarah just as the
Romanian competitor fell off the bar. I draped my arm around her back
as I ate.
    “She’ll have to tighten up
her whole routine,” Sarah said, right before the announcer said
the same words.
    “I think she was very brave to
keep going,” I said to Sarah. “It’s important to
just keep going, keep fighting.”
    “And I’ll tell you that is
not an easy skill,” Sarah said, exactly in sync with the
announcer.
    “It’s funny, the ones that
look easy are always the hardest,” I said between bites.
    When Sarah’s favorite American
competitor took the beam, I reached to my laptop to skip forward.
    “No!” Sarah yelled.
    “You hate it when Gaby slips,”
I told her.
    “I like to be sad,” Sarah
said.
    “What?” I said, sitting
back in my chair.
    “I like to be sad,” she
repeated.
    I paused, then said, “Um, okay.”
Letting the recording go, I stared at Sarah as she watched her
favorite gymnast take the beam and slip in one of her landings.
    Sarah screamed at the laptop.
    Immediately, there was a banging from
the wall that connected our apartment to Clarke’s.
    I paused the