Chapter 8
I was so proud of myself. I stayed cheerful and grandma-lovey all evening. I didn’t even cry when we watched Finding Nemo for the umpteenth time. By the time we went to bed, I still hadn’t needed to tell the children about Timmy.
Tuesday morning I staggered out of bed, let Coco out to do her business in the yard, stumbled through breakfast, and supervised the children’s face washing and tooth brushing while gulping down copious amounts of strong black coffee. I usually spiked my coffee with half and half, but I didn’t want to dilute the caffeine that I was counting on to jump-start me out of a semicoma so I could drive the kids to school without running the car off the road. Paul would have helped, of course, but earlier, after hugs all around, he’d hurried off to the Academy t
