Free The Hand That Holds Mine by Jennifer Loren Page A

idea what he is searching for, I don’t even know who he is! AAAHHH! Presumably my last novel and I can’t come up with two sentences that are any good. Two sentences!
    “You decided to get started finally, huh?” Jeneba asks me, as she flutters around my room tidying up everything in sight before she has to go.
    “I wouldn’t call it a start, it isn’t even an idea. I don’t know how I am supposed to write without an idea.” I say with bitterness.
    “You’re forcing yourself, you should do what you always have and let it come to you. You’ll get it in time.”
    “I don’t have any time! That’s the one thing I don’t have.” I snap at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you.”
    “It’s alright, but I would feel better if you would eat some of your food before I go.” Glancing to my side, I turn my nose up at the bland soup and dry bread. I am tired of this diet, I want a pizza - from Italy , or Sushi - from Japan , not … this.
    Deb walks in and drops several bags on the floor next to me. “What is that?” I ask annoyed by her abundant mess.
    “One bag has all the supplies for knitting, the other has supplies for scrapbooking and the last one has some charcoal and such for sketching.” She says smiling wide at me and not at all appreciating my unenthused attitude over it all. “Oh don’t look at me that way Adeline, I think you need to relax, not frustrate yourself trying to write. It is too much pressure, you are trying too hard to make your last book the best ever. You shouldn’t put so much pressure on yourself, you have accomplished so much. Most people would be more than satisfied with your accomplishments. Jeneba agrees with me.” Deb motions towards a fleeting Jeneba. “Chicken!”
    “I am not knitting, sketching, nor am I going to scrapbook! I have nothing to scrapbook anyway. Or at least nothing that doesn’t remind me of him somehow.” Setting my glasses back on my nose I push the screen of my laptop back into position.
    “Ok ignore me and continue doing whatever you want to but the doctor said you need to rest. I am only trying to help.” She leans down kissing my head, and taking my hand when I hold it out for her.
    “Love you.” I say with a hard gulp.
    “Love you too, sweetheart. Eat some and I will call you later to check on you.” Deb my long time literary agent and my best friend is determined to hold out hope. Jeneba, my neighbor, my good friend and my part-time nurse is more of a realist and maybe that’s why I prefer her to be around. As I stare at the keys of my keyboard, my vision begins to blur and my ears perk up as I listen to my friends discuss my life from a distance they believe is safe enough to do so. Back and forth they talk about a possible cure, and they end their conversation by discussing him .
    Mitch Blake - my husband, soon to be ex-husband. He seemed perfect, wonderful in every way, although not overly supportive of my writing in the beginning, he became quite supportive once they started bringing in money. So much so, he was almost annoying he was so attentive and caring. All that ended, when I became sick and became too slow to keep up with him. The memories of our slow demise will always be clear to me. It is so easy for me to see now but then I wanted to pretend that it was all my imagination. I wanted to believe my dreams were still within reach:
      “Adeline!” Mitch yells racing through the house, finding me lying down. “What are you doing, taking a nap? We don’t have time for your laziness Adeline, get up and get ready.”
    “I am trying Mitch but I just don’t think I can. I am so tired and I …” I say watching him as he checks his hair in the mirror.
    “You have to be the laziest woman I have ever met. I suppose you want to stay home again? You know if you don’t start enjoying life a little more … all you are going to have is your made up stories.” Sighing deeply he puts his hands on his hips