A Bucket List Birthday by Emmie J. Holland EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Authors: Emmie J. Holland
- Language: English
- Genre: Romantic Comedy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Ellis
My grandfather had a stroke during my fifth birthday party.
I mean, he was fine.
He still is.
In fact, he currently lives in upstate New York with my grandmother and
spends nearly all of his retirement hunting and trying out new recipes.
I would be lying if I didn’t admit that watching my family sob while my
grandfather got carried off on a stretcher didn’t spark a new core memory.
And this memory was certainly painted blue. I would also be lying if I said
I didn’t think about it every year around my birthday. It’s like the ghost of
birthdays’ past decided I had cute shoes, then followed me around for the
rest of my natural life, thinking we were destined to become best friends.
We were not.
Destined to become friends, that is.
The pencil scratching across paper draws me back to the present. The
sounds of coffee grinding and gentle murmurs remind me I’m in full control
of the ghost. It’s only allowed to haunt me when I say it can, despite what
my approaching birthday says.
I pause, looking at the composition of lines and shadow on the page–the
way the values build into something recognizable–something good.
My eyes flick up to the old couple sitting by the window of the coffee
shop, sipping espresso and smiling in a way that says they’ve lived a long,
full life together. I can’t help the way the corner of my mouth turns up at the
image, and I glance down at my sketchbook again. I’d like to think I did
them justice.
“I hope you told that sweet couple you were doing that first. I’d hate for
my best friend to be thrown into prison for stalking strangers.”
I slam the sketchbook shut, finding Lennon hovering above my table of
choice with a coffee in her hand. She smiles, her freckles bunching, before
she slides into the seat across from me.
“I didn’t ask them,” I admit as she takes off her coat and drapes it over
the back of the chair, leaving the heathered gray beanie on her head.
“Pity,” Lennon muses, one eyebrow cocked. “I won’t visit you in prison,
you know. Our friendship will cease to exist. I simply hate talking on the
phone, and that would be the only way we could communicate.” She takes a
sip of her coffee before picking up each braid to analyze the split ends of
her red hair. Finally, her blue eyes meet mine. “I simply can’t do it. It gives
me anxiety.”
I chuckle, tapping the pencil on the pine surface of the table. “I’ll think of
you often, while I’m gone.”
Her smile cracks wide, a true testament to my best friend’s actual heart–
the one she hides beneath hurled insults and sarcasm. “I would hope.”
Lennon and I met in college and trauma bonded over having the worst
roommates in the history of all roommates ever. I would argue that my
roommate was, objectively, worse than the girl inhabiting Lennon’s dorm
room. She would argue the opposite.
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