Not Looking For Love: Episode 1 Read Free Page B

they'd already passed the death sentence on her, she'd still get up and walk around, even eat dinner with us downstairs. But the last such day was my birthday. These days, she sleeps for most of the day and night.  
    I'm snuggled next to her five minutes later and pushing play. When Edna the nurse comes up, I'll ask her pretty please for some popcorn. I haven't eaten since dinner last night, but I'd rather starve than miss movie day with my mom. We settle in and after a few minutes, it's just like old times, those lazy afternoons we'd spend watching movies, talking, and laughing. My mom was a high power attorney. But she always made sure to spend time with me, always left work at work when she decided to take a break. International law, specialized in human rights, and it's what I'm studying too. I wonder if she misses work. There's still so much she had meant to do. Maybe I can do some of it for her one day. I swallow the sad thought and concentrate hard on the movie.
    The romance between Jack and Rose starts. Not long after, I've already cast Scott and myself in the roles. What was it like for Rose? Stepping out and defying convention by falling for Jack? Must have been exciting, super charged. I'm imagining last night again, Scott and me in the pool, his bulky, strong arms around me and his lips on mine. In my mind, I'm wearing the long, lacy underwear women used to wear, because it fits this fantasy better, and I'm a geek that way.  
    "So do you have a boy you like now?" Mom asks. Blood rushes to my face. I was just thinking about tasting Scott's nipples again.  
    "No," I stammer, totally revealing my lie.
    My mom chuckles a little, and there's the ghost of her once melodic laugh there, but it's immediately crushed by the horrifying cough.
    I move to massage her back, hoping to ease the coughing, but she nods that she's alright.  
    "You can't lie to me, Gail," my mom whispers. "Who is he?"
    "No one really. I hardly know him, and I'm pretty sure he wants nothing to do with me," I say. It'd be useless to lie now. Pointless. I've never lied to my mom, not much anyway.
    On the screen, Rose is posing nude while Jack draws her. I wonder what it would feel like to have Scott look at me like that. Somehow, the anticipation of the touch, seeing but not being allowed to feel, seems even more erotic than the real thing.
    Mom is studying my face seriously now. "You should convince him then. Regret is not something you want to die with, Gail."
    This time, I feel the blood drain from my face, as a cold, relentless vice clutches down on my chest. I'm rigid with fear. I don't want to talk of death with my mom. My mom's death.  
    Tears are brimming in my eyes, and my throat is so tight, so constricted I couldn't say a word even if I tried. Even if I knew what to say.
    I hug her tightly, and all I want to say, all I have ever wanted to say is in that hug.  
    She strokes my hair, and holds me loosely. She has no strength left. "Promise me, Gail, that you'll live. Promise me."
    She's shaking as she says it, like a leaf trying to hang on in the strong fall wind, but her voice is firm. "We live and then we die. So we must live. You must live."
    I nod into her shoulder. I can't imagine the day she will no longer be here; not really, I see no life beyond that day. There is only the dark abyss like I'm standing on a cliff, darkness around me, darkness below. But she sounds so strong today. I have to be strong for her.  
    Coughing overtakes her again, and I let go, giving her air. She can't stifle it this time, and a few minutes later Edna rushes in to give her the medicine.
    Pain flashes across Mom's face with each breath she manages to take between the bouts of coughing and the terrifying gasps, when she can't get any air into her lungs. The prickly ball of tears spreads out from my throat, into my chest, settling in my stomach. I want to wail; I want to scream and stomp. I don't want my mom to die. I don't want to live if she dies.  
    I