The Waiting Read Online Free PDF Page A

kiddo.”
    She came over to the couch where he was resting with his feet up on the recliner and kissed the top of his head.  
    “I’m going to look for carpets tomorrow,” he said.  
    “Good. These floors are so slippery, you’ll be taking care of me and my broken hip in the bed next to Cassie.”
    He heard every step as she walked to her room, then the bathroom. The faucets squealed as they turned and water splashed into the tub.  
    Brian plucked the remote from between the couch cushions and looked for something funny to watch On-Demand. None of the new stuff looked the least bit appealing. He searched for older movies and smiled when the highlighted cursor found The Big Lebowski .  
    “The Dude abides,” he said, and clicked OK to watch his favorite movie.  
    Alice had gone to bed and the Dude was having Donnie’s ashes blown back into his face when Brian heard a slow creak. The sound bounced around the walls of the hallway leading to his and Cassandra’s bedroom.  
    He paused the movie and looked down the hall.  
    Creeeaaak.
    A sliver of light slashed across the floor and lower part of the wall.  
    The light grew brighter as their bedroom door swung open. The handle bumped into the wall with a dull thud.
    Cassandra!
    If she was up, her legs wouldn’t be able to hold her weight for long. Brian stumbled off the couch and ran to get her. His socks skated across the floor and he slid into the bedroom.  
    Cassandra lay still, the pump humming away, pulsing with the milky fluid that fed her.  
    She hadn’t so much as moved a muscle since the last time he’d checked on her.  
    Brian looked at the wide-open door. A disconcerting tickle danced across his lower back.  
    Old uneven doors.  
    He shivered, and decided to call it a night.  

Chapter Eight
    Marybeth and Brian’s friend Tony came to visit one night. He asked them to stay for dinner and Alice whipped up a fettuccine carbonara that was out of this world. Tony dove in for his third helping.  
    “Mrs. Torre, you mind coming to live with me?” he said.  
    “If I did, you wouldn’t be long for this planet,” she replied, laughing. “Brian said you had a big appetite. God bless. Eat up.”
    Marybeth had excused herself to go to the restroom. When she returned to the kitchen, she said, “I couldn’t help myself. I had to check on Cass again. Her color looks better.”
    “Has she been able to talk at all?” Tony asked.  
    “Not a word—yet,” Brian said. He finished his glass of wine. “The doctor said she will. All of the moving parts are fine. It’s a form of mutism brought on by trauma. When she can be awake for longer periods of time without the pain, she’ll talk.”  
    What he didn’t say was how a small piece of him died every time he looked into her eyes and saw the hurt. He did everything he could to keep her comfortable. If only she could tell him what she was experiencing, maybe he’d find a better way to make it disappear. It was a fantasy, thinking that he could banish her pain through the magic of her voice. But fantasies and hopes were all he had to go on.  
    Marybeth and Tony stayed for a while longer, until she checked the clock on the kitchen wall and said, “Oh jeez, I better get home. I have a report that needs to be done before I get in the office tomorrow. I just love spreadsheets.”
    Tony rose from his chair and stretched his arms. “I better hit the dusty, too. Mickey’s off so I have to open the shop. A morning person, I’m not. Though I will sleep good tonight, thanks to Momma Torre.” He rubbed his belly.  
    Brian shook his head. Tony was a master of lighting up the mood of a room. A dose of Tony was just what he needed. His anger had been simmering for weeks now. He was angry at the doctors for not getting Cassandra well. Angry at the insurance companies that expected him to decipher the mounds of paperwork they sent daily. Angry at work for taking him away from Cassandra.  
    He’d told Alice