A Five-Minute Life

“No. Just bounced around between foster families.”

Thea sat up and brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes. Even splotchy red from crying, she was beautiful.

“For eighteen years?”

I nodded. “None of the families stuck. Some were bad. Real bad. The last especially.”

“And then…?”

“I aged out,” I said. “The stutter made finding work hard, but I got a job as an orderly in Richmond. Then that place shut down, and I got the job here.”

And then I met you, Thea Hughes.

Thea frowned, pondering all of this, then settled back against me. “So… where do you live?”

“I rent a place in Boones Mill. It’s about fifteen minutes from here.”

“Alone? Or do you have a roommate?” I felt her stiffen as if bracing herself. “Or… a girlfriend?”

“No girlfriend. I live alone.”

Thea melted against me. I held her tighter.

“Do you have a dog?” she asked. “A goldfish?”

“No pets allowed.”

She craned her neck up to look at me, her lips inches from mine. “But Jimmy…?”

I shifted under her questioning gaze. “I know it doesn’t sound like much, but I don’t need much, either.”

Thea frowned. “What about love?”

I frowned back. “What about it?”

“There had to have been someone. When you were a little boy…?”

“Grandpa Jack. My last foster mother’s dad. He was good to me. He died but… we had some good times.”

Thea stared, and I realized the entirety of my life’s story had taken minutes to tell.

Five minutes. I’ve been living a five-minute life.

“I don’t need pity, Thea,” I said, turning away from her incredulous look. “It is what it is.”

Her hand touched my fingers, her soft skin warm in the warmer air, and then slid into mine—palm to palm—and our fingers laced together. Thea settled back against my chest, curving into me again because she belonged there and we both knew it.

“I don’t feel sorry for you, Jimmy,” she said. “I feel sorry for all the people who had a chance to really know you but didn’t. They blew it. They fucked up. I’m proud of myself that I’m not like them.”

I stared over her head. No one had ever said anything like that to me. Her words sank some place deep in me that rarely saw the light of day.

Her dad was right. She can light up even the darkest of rooms.

Chapter 21

Thea

I opened my eyes and waited for the first grief of the day to whack me. It came but was somewhat gentler than yesterday. I felt okay. No new revelations awaited me, at least. I had to keep going, carry on, and officially start my new life as a real person.