Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83467 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I rolled my eyes at him, but I was smiling. I was glad he’d come. I hadn’t been sure. He’d been acting weird since the engagement. Less texting, more awkwardness when he was around us, and it caused me to panic at times. I had said yes to Bowie, not thinking about how it would affect me and Kye. I couldn’t lose Kye. The truth was, if I had to choose between the two, I wasn’t so sure I wouldn’t choose Kye, and was that a way to start a marriage? Knowing that there was someone else who was more important than your spouse?
“Did my second favorite Stoll lady make my caramel pie?” he asked me as he walked over to the microwave.
“What do you think?”
Mom had been making Kye caramel pie for Thanksgiving since he had been eight.
He looked back at me with his cocky grin. “I think if your dad ever frees her up, I’m proposing.”
“Sure you are,” I replied while reading the recipe Mom had left on the counter for me.
I wasn’t a cook, but on Thanksgiving and Christmas, Mom always gave me specific things to make. The simple things I couldn’t mess up. I should know how to make green bean casserole by heart at this point in life, but since I only made it for two meals out of the year, I always forgot how to do it.
Kye walked over and pulled out a stool to sit down with his breakfast across from where I was working.
I reached over and got the bowl of candied pecans, then pushed them over to him. “You forgot to sprinkle these on top,” I told him.
He grabbed a handful as I went to the fridge to get the whipped cream out. When I went back over to his plate and added the final touch, he opened his mouth for me to shoot some inside it too. Laughing, I gave him a large squirt before putting it back up.
“See, I did need your help with fixing my pancakes,” he said to me as I went back to working on the casserole.
“Mmhmm,” I replied. “Why do I think you left those things off because you knew I’d do it for you?”
He winked and put a forkful into his mouth. Looking past him, I watched as the new Snoopy float they’d kept talking about made its way down the street. This was a tradition and had been for years. One that Bowie had never been a part of. He’d always gone to his aunt’s house with his family on Thanksgiving.
Kye had started coming over for pumpkin pancakes since I’d told him about them the first year we moved in next door. We would watch the parade together, and he’d stay and visit while Mom cooked dinner. Once he had left home, Chloe had started to travel during Thanksgiving week with friends, so Kye had begun staying here for lunch. A few times over the years, he and his mom had come over for Thanksgiving meals too.
“Where’s Bowie?” he asked, and the sarcastic way he said his name wasn’t lost on me.
“He’s on his way. He didn’t leave until early this morning,” I explained.
“Doesn’t he have to go to his aunt’s house?”
I nodded. “We are both going for dinner. He’s eating lunch here.”
Kye looked annoyed by that answer as he took another bite.
“We set a wedding date,” I said, needing to get that out of the way. I didn’t want Bowie bringing it up and Kye getting all weird on me.
Kye set his fork down. “Oh. When?”
I slid the casserole into the oven and checked on Mom’s dressing. “March 30.”
He coughed as I turned back to him. The scowl on his face made it clear that he didn’t like that answer. “Of next year? As in four fucking months?”
I had felt like it was soon too. When I’d mentioned waiting a year, Bowie had been hurt, so I had given in and agreed to sooner.
“Yeah.”
Kye narrowed his eyes as he studied me. “You’re twenty. Why the rush?” he said, his voice raised lightly. “You don’t seem real happy about it either.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Either?” I asked.
“Yeah, either. I’m not fucking happy about it.”
“Language!” my mom called out from the dining room. “And it is too soon. They need to wait a few years. Twenty is too young to be married.”
Kye pointed at the dining room. “See! Listen to your mother.”
I leaned my hip against the counter and crossed my arms over my chest as I looked at him. “Bowie doesn’t want to even wait a year. I mentioned it, and he acted like I’d hurt his feelings.”
Kye’s eyebrows were pinched together. “Because he’s a pussy,” he said angrily, although his voice dropped to a whisper on the last word so Mom wouldn’t hear him. “Don’t let him pressure you to get married so soon. It’s bad enough you’re engaged at twenty.”