Page 32 of The Last Kiss

She glares at me. The longer I hold it in my mouth, the more I think it’s burning away my gums and possibly the enamel on my teeth. You could use this stuff to unblock sinks.

Ugh sinks. I’m going to puke.

I shake my head.

She nods.

I shake my head again just as Charlie looks over to our table. “Food won’t be long.” Her gaze drops to the glass. “How is it, Jules? It’s delicious, isn’t it? I have it every morning for breakfast. Great for your heart and circulation, and all sorts of inflammatory conditions.”

I thumbs up while Liv widens her eyes even further until she’s doing her best mascaraed Bambi impersonation.

Fuck’s sake.

I swallow, trying hard not to gag as the liquid slips down.

I should have gone to work. Telling Rebecca that I was going to be leaving one way or another would be better than this.

Lenny who up until now has been sitting quietly in a highchair giving the kiss of life to a breadstick decides it’s time to have in on the action and throws the soggy snack onto the centre of the table next along.

“Gosh, I am so sorry.” Liv jumps up with a napkin and swipes up the sloppy mess. The two women, large white wines and power suits, both offer her tight-lipped smiles and I hate them for the way they see her. That she’s just a mum who can’t control her kid.

Up until nearly four years ago she looked just like them. Before Dickweed Darren put a spanner in the works by starting a family with her he ‘wasn’t entirely sure about’. Damn, I hate that bastard.

With red cheeks, she sits back down and tucks her silky hair behind her ear. I pass Lenny another breadstick. “Go at it.”

He drools a smile and then presses the overbaked bread against his gums.

Checking where Charlie is, I quickly pour the rest of the health shot into the pot plant next to my chair. Thank God, Charlie is all about the green. Her restaurant resembles more of a greenhouse, but she assures anyone that comments that the added oxygen in the air makes for a relaxing experience.

I suppose if my breathing gets any worse, I can always come and hang out here every day.

Thrusting the thought to the back of my head, I refocus on Liv. “How’s the rest of the guys?”

She smiles. “Fine, you know, busy. Actually, we are going out next week. Well, I say out, coming here for a catch up. Why don’t you come?”

I suck my teeth. “Liv, they are your friends.”

“Our friends.” She’s being kind. She wants to share, like all good sisters do. “They love you; you know that.”

“That’s wonderful, but you know, I don’t think I’m really in a place to socialise right now. Hell, I couldn’t even get to work.”

Liv straightens up, her graceful body strengthening. “So, what you going to do, just sit at home and wait for the worst to happen?”

“No,” I pout back, “I’ve started a bucket list.”

“A bucket list? Why?” She straightens her knife and fork, considers the remaining folded napkin before doing the same to that too. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

“Liv. That’s not actually a helpful attitude right now.”

“And hiding in a small poky apartment with a smelly cat is?”

“What exactly else should I be doing?”

Here it comes… the R word.

“Research. You need to be prepared for when the transplant team call, have a list of questions ready. You need to speak to Dr Francis. Didn’t he want to talk about your medication.”

I open my mouth to stop her, but she holds her hand up.