Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
I snort with laughter. “I guess.”
“Wow, I was not expecting this kind of Biblical feminist analysis with my biker brother today.”
Coldness settles in my chest, our shared past pressing against my ribs like a slab of concrete. “None of those stories ever sat right with me. Not Cain’s punishment, Eve’s supposed inferiority, or Jezebel’s vilification.”
Jezzie exhales sharply. Her fingers tighten around her bottle of soda, the plastic crinkling under her touch. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Me neither.”
My fingers curl into a fist against the table. “Our father tried to beat all those doubts and questions out of me, but the more he tried to whip the devil from my soul, the more I was convinced I was on to something.”
Jezzie’s throat bobs as she swallows. “I’m sorry, Jensen.” She glances down at her plate. “He only got worse after you left,” she whispers, so low I almost miss the words. They still strike like a hammer.
Guilt crumbles over me. I couldn’t save everyone. “Have you ever heard from Ruth?”
She shakes her head. Hesitates. “No. I know she and—”
I hold up my hand, not wanting to hear the kid’s name. Jezzie was my only responsibility.
“They relocated somewhere on the West Coast, last I knew,” she finishes.
A chill creeps down my spine. The past has a nasty habit of digging itself up when you least expect it.
I never anticipated this deep a conversation with my usually prickly sister over pizza today. And I don’t enjoy the demons of my past returning to take a bite out of me.
I exhale sharply, shoving those old feelings deep, deep down. “It’s okay. We’re okay. You’re brave and smart and know not to fall for any of that bullshit now.”
She nods slowly, then rolls her shoulders back like she’s also shaking off bad memories. “I get the creeps anytime someone talks about going to church or religion of any kind.”
“Can’t blame you.” I reach over and rest my hand over hers. “Why didn’t you say something about your name? When I introduced you to Margot and my brothers…I would’ve used whatever name you wanted.”
“I…I thought you’d think it’s dumb.” She tugs at the hem of her sleeve, her knuckles brushing against my thumb. “Or you’d make fun of me. I don’t know.”
Fuck, that stings—because she’s right, I probably would have teased her. What kind of shitty brother am I that I had no idea her own name bothered her so much?
“Since I was starting over here, I wanted to test out something different.” She wrinkles her nose. “I’m not sure I care for Jay either, it kinda sounds like a dude’s name.” The corners of her mouth turn up. “Erin came up with J-bird on her own.”
I squeeze her hand once, then let go. “Well, when you decide on a name that fits, just tell me.” I narrow my eyes and fake snarl. “I’ll punch anyone who gives you a hard time about it.”
A genuine trickle of laughter eases out of her. “Deal.”
“You ever talk to Aunt Angela about this?” I ask, curious how she would’ve advised my sister.
Her jaw tightens. “Once.”
“And?”
“She said my name was my connection to my family’s history or some crap. Like, yeah. That’s kinda why I hate it.” She meets my eyes again. “Honestly, I think it was more about the difficulty in getting your name legally changed,” she adds quickly, as if eager to defend our aunt from any criticism I might raise.
“Yeah, but better to do it when you’re young, before you get established in a career or something,” I point out.
She nods slowly. “That’s true.”
“You talk to her recently?” I ask, shifting from the topic of names. “She doing all right?”
She sets her slice down on the paper plate. “She won’t text, so we talk every couple of days. I think she’s good. She’s got a nice group of women her age she’s been hanging out with—they do a lot of volunteering and now they’re planning some month-long cruise to Alaska this summer.”
“No shit. Good for her.” I shiver at the thought of being trapped on a boat for that long.
“Don’t be mad. But she asks about you all the time. If you’re doing okay. I told her you’re seeing a really nice woman.”
I roll my eyes and finish chewing. “I’m not mad. What’d she say?”
Jezzie glances away. “Just wanted to know if you’re nice to her.”
Motherfucker. The words and their implication slam into me harder than expected.
I lean in close, lowering my voice. “Why? She think I’m a monster like our father?”
She meets my stare head-on. “Yeah, probably.” She holds up her hands in surrender. “I know you’re not. I’ve told her that dozens of times.”
Gee, I’m almost convinced.
Wait, dozens of times? So Angela harps on this a lot?
Fucking great.
My stomach’s turned sour. Damn. We were having such a good conversation and actually bonding like adults instead of snipping at each other like teenagers.