Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
I’m catching on too slowly, but now it hits me like a train.
There’s never been an uncle with Aunt Clara.
Hell, I don’t recall her ever dating anyone, or talking about a love life at all.
Of course, Deb and I always chalked that up to her being too busy with Inky, and then unexpectedly saddled with two young brats on top of a full-time career dedicated to her art.
On the other hand, she’s never expressed much interest in men at all.
It’s not something I’ve ever thought about. You tend not to think too hard about your parental figure’s love life for the sake of your own sanity.
It’s not that she hates men.
She just seems oblivious to them, minus the stubborn little bastard she’s sculpted into some semblance of a man.
Fuck.
Did she and Yvette Sullivan . . . ?
She won’t tell me, but I know who might.
I grab my phone and tap Deb’s number.
“Well, that was a complete shit show.” She answers without a hello. “How’re you holding up?”
“A particularly smelly one, but that’s not why I’m calling. I need you to take over operations for a bit. I’m going out of town for a couple of days.”
“What? Why? The trial’s coming up! Even if it seems kind of fucking pointless now. We should still be there, shouldn’t we?”
“I’ll be back in time, Deb,” I promise. “I don’t think it’s pointless.”
“Oh no. Idiot brother, what are you planning? Where are you going?”
“Minnesota.”
Long silence.
“What the fuck is in Minnesota?” Deb hisses.
I smile for the first time all day. “I’m not sure yet, but I’m about to find out.”
XXIII
THE SUNNY SIDE OF GLOOM
(ELLE)
We’ve come full circle.
Me, sitting with Lena and Gran at the kitchen table, sipping cups of hot tea and watching the rain come down outside while I nurse my broken heart.
They’re here for me the same way they always are.
I’m so glad I have them.
I couldn’t handle being alone right now.
Not even after getting out of August’s shirt and scrubbing off his scent so it wouldn’t make me burst into fiery tears all over again.
There is no “we”!
You aren’t a part of this.
You don’t need to intrude, inserting yourself into goddamned everything.
My lips quiver.
I pinch them together hard and take another long, burning sip of my tea.
Orange blossom with honey today.
Comfort tea.
She always knows exactly what I need.
I rub my thumb against the warm ceramic cup and look up at my grandmother with a thousand-pound heart.
“Gran? Do . . . do you ever resent looking after me?”
Lena rolls her eyes like it’s the dumbest question she’s ever heard. It probably is, but sometimes I just need to hear it.
Gran reaches over and lays her paper-thin hand over mine gently. “Never, dear. Not once. You’ve brought so much light into my life. You always will.” She squeezes my hand. “Having you here has made my life happier than I can describe.”
“So I wasn’t an intrusion?”
I know I sound like a needy little girl right now.
And I feel like one too.
“No.” She shakes her head firmly. “You were right where you belonged.” Her brows crease with concern. “Is that what he called you? An ‘intrusion’?”
Lena bares her teeth. “Oh God, I really am going to cut his balls off.”
“Now don’t be vulgar, Lena.” Gran purses her lips.
“Nope. Not this time. Not listening. Balls go poof!” She slides her finger across her throat. “Shhk!”
Sighing, Gran says, “Well, I can’t fault your motives, at least. Do use a sharp knife, if you must be so uncivilized.”
“Do I look like an amateur, Grams?” Lena smiles viciously.
I don’t know how they do it, but I’m laughing.
It doesn’t fix the heartbreak, no; it just makes it tolerable for a few minutes.
“You two are awful,” I whisper.
Lena grins at me. “We love you anyway, you dinkus.”
“‘Dinkus’? Is that a word?” I laugh—but between one breath and the next I start crying again.
Again.
God, why?
Why do I care so much?
I know August is a hollowed-out grouch with a heart smaller than a peanut. But I also know that when his temper snaps, sometimes he says things he doesn’t mean.
Why am I so upset then?
Because he did mean it.
Because you’re a loud, annoying, chaotic intrusion, and you think if you just act like you don’t care, then the people who find you annoying and obnoxious won’t hurt you.
He’s struck one of my deepest insecurities, the one that I’ve never been able to face myself.
All shoved at me by the one man I wanted to like me more than anything.
With a panicked sound, Lena jumps to her feet, her chair scraping. “Hey—hey, okay, we’re out of tissues, hold on.” She dips into the kitchen and snatches a wad of paper, thrusting it at me. “There we go. Paper towel time.”
I take the paper towels and scrub my face.
They’re scratchy, but I don’t care.
“Sorry, guys—sorry I’m such a mess, I just—”