Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77918 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I had to force myself not to smack him upside the head with my shovel. “Yes, he spoke…some. I did more of the talking.”
“I feel his pain,” Emerson teased, and I couldn’t help chuckling. He was right. “Isn’t this what you wanted? To be his friend?”
“Yeah, but last night wasn’t what I expected.” I didn’t know how good it would feel to talk to him and how much more curious it would make me about the quiet, kind man. “Anyway, ignore me.” That was my plan, to ignore myself and not overthink things. I’d never been an overthinker, so why would I start now? I had fun with Brian, so I planned to continue doing it. I didn’t want anyone to ever feel alone in the world the way I’d later found out my brother had. This wasn’t anything more than that.
Me: Emerson made me shovel shit.
Brian: That’s what ya do on a farm.
Me: You’re not nearly as supportive as you’re supposed to be. Feel my pain, Brian!
Brian: City boys are spoiled.
Me: Some friend you are…
Me: I was kidding.
Me: Hello? I’m very good at bugging people. Just ask Emerson.
Brian: I’m workin’. Unless you want me to get hurt, I should concentrate.
Oh, well, that made sense. Brian had shared that he was a manufacturing machine operator for a building brand. I didn’t know exactly what that meant he did all day, but it sounded like there was a possibility of losing a finger or two.
Also, three texts in a row was a bit obsessive. This man seemed to make me feel upside down when my whole life had been spent right-side up.
I’d finished working with Emerson a little while ago, had come home to shower and get dressed, and now I was restless. That was clearly part of it. I couldn’t push myself on Emerson and Sam all the time, even though it was fun to annoy my best friend.
When my cell buzzed, my pulse jumped, which I wasn’t going to allow myself to stress on at the moment. I was excited over the fact that it could be Brian, but it was my mom. “Hey, you.”
“Hey back at you. How are things going down South? Did you get called a Yankee yet?” she asked, making me chuckle.
“Most people just stare and whisper about how people like me are ruining small towns.” Which was a joke but also not. “How’s everything?”
Mom talked to me about friends, Dad, and this lady she got into an argument with at her favorite bagel shop in the city. Eventually, she said, “I miss you. I don’t understand why you’ve decided to spend the summer in North Carolina.”
“Believe me, sometimes I’m surprised and don’t understand it either. I just… I can’t explain it. After losing Paul and then everything Emerson went through…and now seeing Emerson happy and reclaiming his life, it reminded me that life is short and I spend it casually dating and working. I’m happy, so it’s not that I’m not, but I don’t feel…fulfilled? Life just feels monotonous.” That was a clusterfuck even in my own head, but for whatever reason, it felt right.
“And life in Ryland is less monotonous than in New York?”
“Oh, she brought jokes,” I teased. “It’s different for me because I’m not used to it. I literally shoveled shit today. I told Brian, and he didn’t sympathize with me. You will, won’t you?”
“Who’s Brian?”
“Eh, straight guy. It’s not what you think.”
“That my son might finally settle down?”
“Wow, just when I was thinking how cool you are…”
“I reminded you I’m still a mom?”
“The best one there is.”
“You can’t charm me like you can everyone else, Charles Wells.”
“You’re supposed to fall for it more than anyone else,” I joked back.
“I do. Now tell me about this Brian.”
“There’s not much to tell. He’s a few years older than me. Works in a factory. Never been married, and he’s straight, like I said. He’s quiet, keeps to himself, lonely, I think.”
“Ah, I get it now. You saw someone who was hurting and reached out with that big heart of yours.”
“I’m pretty awesome, aren’t I?”
“And you know it too, which isn’t a bad thing.”
We chuckled, but something about what she said wasn’t sitting right with me. “It’s not a pity thing. I enjoy his company. He’s a guitarist. We played music together for hours.”
“I like that. I’m glad you’ve met a new friend. Just don’t move away from me, okay? One summer is going to be hard enough. I need my boy close.”
It had been hardest on Mom when we lost Paul. I’d never seen her so broken. She’d clung to me a lot afterward, wanted us to spend even more time together, almost afraid to let me out of her sight. Considering I was in my thirties, that had been tough. She was better now, but I knew how much she loved me, how hard it would be for her if I ever moved out of the city.