CHAPTER 3

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Emma slammed her car door shut and proceeded to kick her drivers' door. A sharp pain shot through her leg instantly. "Ouch!" she screamed and hopped around on her left leg while she tried to hold her right foot. She knew better. She never was known for her coordination. She lost her footing and fell on the floor, her back hitting against the door. "Can this day get any worse?"

A throat cleared from in front of her and Emma froze. She peeked in front of her. Bare feet inside bamboo sandals were all she saw. "I spoke too soon."

"Emma," he called to her quietly. "Are you alright?" She nodded. She didn't want to speak. She just wanted to crawl under her covers and pretend the day was over. "Em." She looked up. His fuzzy jaw hid a gentle smile.

Despite her horrid start to the day, Emma had enough in her to return the smile. "I'm alright, promise. It's just not been a good morning."

He hummed. "Looks that way. Your car do something to you?"

She laughed, already feeling better. "No, the radio did." His face pulled skew. She sighed and waved him off. "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine."

His hairy hand stretched out to pat her knee. "Of course, you will. You're strong. Now," he stood up quickly and extended his hands. "Let's go inside and start the day, shall we? Mom's been in agony waiting for you." At the mention of Gina, guilt swallowed Emma. Her problems paled in comparison.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said to Charles as they walked towards the house.

"It's alright. Seems you had good reason." She really didn't. They walked inside the cozy home in silence. While Charles disappeared upstairs, Emma made her way towards the first room down the hallway. She knocked before entering.

"Good morning Gina," she greeted.

The older woman smiled with effort. Her thin arm rose to give a shaky wave. "Good morning Emma. I was wondering when you'd show up." Gina looked tired, more than usual but, as was her style, her eyes still held their youthful spark.

"Worried about me, were you?" teased Emma as she placed her bag in the cupboard. She walked towards Gina and reached for her small wrist, placing her two fingers around the bone and counted. Emma frowned. Gina's pulse was slower than the previous day. She reached for the notepad on the table beside Gina and wrote down her results. Emma collected all the pills, plenty with varying sizes, and put them in a small tub. She was about to leave to get a glass of water when Charles walked in, his feet now in clunky black boots.

"I'm off to work," he announced. He stepped towards the bed, bent down, and kissed Gina's head. "I'll see you later tonight mom. Be good for Emma." The older woman smiled as she pat his hand lightly. Charles left as quickly as he came.

Emma looked back at Gina and found her eyes squinted in question. One shaky skinny finger was pointed at her. "Why are you so late this morning?"

The reminder dropped her shoulders. Her head ducked to the floor like a guilty child pleading for forgiveness. "It was a rough morning."

Gina relaxed her brows and pat her bed. "Sounds like it's story time."

Emma was used to the gentle invasive nature that covered Gina. She'd been working for Charlie Ross for two months already, spending almost every day attending to Gina. Emma learned on her first day just how spunky Gina could be. She'd been warned that Gina was worse in her youth but Emma couldn't imagine it. Though Gina's glory days were long past, she loved to tell stories. Emma soaked them up, wishing she could live half as an exciting a life as Gina had. Despite their many days of recollection, Emma rarely shared any of her own. It seemed now that her time had come.

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