Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
In the dining room, the long table was filled with food. The turkey was in the middle with fancy greenery and cranberries around it. That was new. Our turkey had never looked like it belonged in a magazine ad before. I had to admit, I liked it. This was turning out to be a great Thanksgiving for Sarah. Even the turkey was special.
I walked over to the chair I always sat in, and Porter took the seat at the head of the table.
Mom walked in with a casserole dish. “Scoot over the green beans, Wilder. I need room for the chicken crack casserole that Oakley helped me make.”
I did as told, and unable to help myself, I glanced back at the door, looking for Oakley to enter. Instead, Mrs. Jojo walked out with the turkey carving knife and handed it to Porter.
“Give Sarah a minute. We don’t want to start without her,” Jojo said to my stepfather.
“I’ll go check on her,” my mom said, then swung her eyes in my direction with a disapproving glance that confused the hell out of me.
What was I missing? Where were Sarah and Oakley?
“Is Sarah okay?” I asked, starting to stand up.
My mom paused at the door. “She’s just gone to wash her face. Oakley having to leave was hard on her.”
Oakley had to leave? Fuck!
“Why did Oakley have to leave?” I asked, walking around the table, feeling like a damn caged animal, unsure of where to go or what to do next.
“She had to get to Thanksgiving with her family,” my mother said, but she looked at me with an accusatory glare. “At least, that was what she said. But seeing as I have met that family and Oakley looked ready to burst into tears, I don’t believe her. Which leads me to point my finger at you, since Oakley was happy as a peach before your arrival.”
Mom was quick. Way too intuitive. She always had been. It was her gift in life.
“Damn it, boy. Did she hear you rattling off about her in the living room? I sure hope not. That girl is too sweet, and it hurts my ticker to think she might have heard that nonsense,” Porter said.
Mom’s hand sprang out and grabbed my bicep. “What did you say, Wilder Noah Jones?!” she demanded angrily.
“Ouch. She is using the middle name. You need to run, man,” Scott piped up, sounding amused.
“Nothing important,” I said, trying to pull free but without success. “Mom, I need to go check on Sarah. Oakley has upset her by leaving.”
My mom’s nails bit into my skin. “Son, you listen to me right now, and you listen good. Oakley isn’t at fault here. She has been wounded on a deep level. That family of hers is some of the worst sort. They don’t even talk about her as if she is a part of them. I witnessed it with my own eyes at the funeral back in August. It broke my heart for her then, and I didn’t even know her. But today, she walked into this house with that gorgeous smile, and she helped me cook, wash dishes, taught Sarah how to set a table properly—”
“Don’t forget, she decorated the turkey up so pretty that I had to take pictures to send to my daughter in Oklahoma,” Mrs. Jojo interrupted.
Mom nodded. “That too. She is absolutely as beautiful on the inside as she is on the outside. Then, you showed up, and she suddenly had to leave. The first I heard of it all day. You did something, and you’d better fix it. She’s exactly what Sarah needs. Sylvia was never a mother to that child, but I see now why Sarah is undamaged because of it. Oakley is the reason. She was the one to stand in the gap, and she filled it up so that Sarah had all she needed.” Mom jammed the tip of her finger into my chest. “And I won’t let you take that away from her. Now, go fix what you did and pray that girl has somewhere to go for Thanksgiving when she gets home because if she doesn’t, you’re not getting one bite of my dressing.”
Scott let out a low whistle, which I ignored.
Hearing my mom talk about Oakley was all I needed to push the rest of the jaded fog from the past away so that I could see her clearly. Mom was right. Oakley wasn’t the girl who had crushed me. She was a woman. A real damn good one. I just didn’t know what to do with that. How to handle it. Because if I let myself acknowledge that Oakley was everything Mom had just said, then my heart was in danger. Again.
By the only female in the world to ever bring me to my knees.