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LAST WEEK, THE DOCTORS HAD PUT HENRY INTO a medically induced coma, claiming that this was something that he needed, that this would put off his death a little longer.
Since that day, Sunday had kept a tight hold on her phone, praying that the next call wouldn't be from her brother telling her that their beloved father was gone.
What Sunday needed was more time.
More time with Brandon.
More time to plan how she was going to take care of her younger brother properly.
And perhaps most importantly, more time with her father.
Sunday needed a drink as well.
"Sunny. Sunny." Jeanette called from next to her.
The trio were at a booth in a local Chili's, multiple appetizers on the middle of the table and each person having a candy colored margarita in front of them.
The lights in the restaurant were warm and the noise around them was cheerful and joyful and all of the things that Sunday just wasn't at the moment.
Sunday blinked her way out of her stupor, "Yeah? What?"
"You're blocking me in," Jeanette raised an eyebrow.
"Oh... Right." Sunday quickly rose out of the booth to let Jeanette out.
"Are you okay?" Rafael asked as soon as Sunday sat down again.
Instead of answering, Sunday reached for her neon blue margarita to suck some of it down.
Once she had had her fill and obtained a sufficient brain freeze, Sunday looked up at her friend, "I think imma go back home tonight."
"It's not gonna be too late for you?" Rafael asked, his brows creased with concern.
Sunday shook her head, "I'll be fine. I can do it."
She wasn't fine at all.
"Do what?" Jeanette inquired as she strolled back to the table.
"I'm gonna try and catch a bus back to Louisville tonight. It might be better for me to stay there until..." Sunday abruptly stopped speaking.
She couldn't bring herself to say the words, 'Until my father dies.'
Jeanette made an empathetic expression and then covered Sunday's hand with her own, "Everything is gonna be fine."
