Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 108165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Some days, I still feel lost, but more and more, I feel like I’m ready to be found. The days I get lost in the past, the man with the piano, I couldn’t care less about the rest of the world. But that’s not living.
If he were alive, he’d come for me. Right?
If I truly loved him, I’d make finding him my full-time job, even if it led me to his grave. Right?
If. If. If …
It’s been months. No more ifs.
“Professor Holter? Did you get a chance to glance at my outline for the conference research paper?” A young man pokes his head into my office. “Sorry.” He cringes. “Your assistant wasn’t at her desk. If you’re busy—”
“It’s fine. I haven’t looked at it. I’m sure it’s on my to-do list. I have a long to-do list.” I lift my eyebrows and give him a tight grin while leaning back in my desk chair after being hunched over my computer for hours.
“Sorry. My mom’s starting chemo in a week, and I wanted to get it written before I cannot concentrate.”
My fake grin fades. “What’s your name?”
“Jack Ebertt.”
Jack … Well done, John.
Of course, my brother knows I’m struggling. Even in death, we share an unbreakable bond. He knows I need a sign that everything’s going to be okay.
I twist my lips while sitting straight again. “Jack…” I search for his outline “…I just so happen to like the name Jack. So let’s go look over your outline.” Closing my laptop, I slide it into my bag.
“Go?”
“Lunch. I’m starving.” I stroll toward the door.
“You’re … I mean … we … we’re going to lunch? Together?”
I nod toward the exit. “If you want me to give you feedback on your outline before your mom starts chemo, then yes.” I brush past him.
He follows me. “I didn’t expect you to be so …”
I glance over my shoulder just before the stairs. “So what?”
“Kind.” He gives me a sheepish grin. “Most of my instructors are not so …”
“Kind?” I laugh, taking the stairs. “Well, most of my students don’t go out of their way to get ahead so they don’t fall behind when they know a family member will need them. You could have used it as an excuse not to complete the paper, but you didn’t. And, like I said, I’m a fan of the name Jack. So thank your mom for that when you see her.” I push through the door to the campus. “Thank your mom for everything.”
This feels good. Living feels good.
Dr. West doesn’t need to tell me I’m good. It’s a decision I’m making on my own. I can be a victim or a survivor. I choose the latter.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
JACKSON
“Idaho,” Jackson says, staring off from his deck into the trees of his wooded lot in Hyde Park.
“Yes,” Livy hands him a cup of coffee and leans on the railing beside him. She took a job at a law firm in Boise, and Jackson made an offer on the house across the street from hers and Slade’s. “I think we’re going to love it here.”
He hums in agreement.
“As long as you and Slade can manage not to kill each other.”
Jackson grunts. “He needs a job.”
“I have a job. An excellent job. Do you have a problem with Slade being a stay-at-home dad?”
“He’s going to get restless.”
Livy nudges his arm. “You mean, you’re going to get restless watching him stay home instead of doing his manly duties of supporting me while I stay home and raise the kids as mom did.”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.” He turns so he’s facing the opposite direction as her.
She smirks before sipping her tea.
“I’m going to miss our mornings together when you start your job.”
“Me too, Dad.” Livy smiles. “We spent too much time apart. And I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again. So this is magical.”
Jackson nods.
She pushes off the railing. “What are you going to do? You need a hobby.”
“Playing with Wylder is my hobby.”
“I love that, and so does he. But you have virtually no furniture in your house. No piano. No workout room. You don’t have a job. No golfing buddies.”
“I don’t golf.”
Livy sits in his deck chair. “You have one chair on your deck. You need another chair. You need someone to sit beside you and help solve the world’s problems.”
He frowns.
She returns a wrinkled-nosed grin. “Okay. You don’t need to solve the world’s problems. You’ve done enough of that. But you could use a friend. A companion. Maybe a dog.”
Jackson chuckles, bringing his coffee to his lips. “Dogs don’t like me.”
“Not true. Jericho likes you.”
“He doesn’t. Your husband made sure of it.”
“Well,” Livy shrugs because she knows it’s true, “maybe not a dog. Maybe you should join a club. Or teach self-defense classes again. You were good at that.”