Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“You’re from down here, aren’t you?” Mark asked as he shut off the truck.
“Yeah.” Mom sighed and sent him a tired smile. “Eugene is better.”
“Of course it is.” He chuckled, then met my eyes in the mirror. “You all set?”
“I just want out of this truck,” I said, stretching my arms over my head.
As soon as we’d climbed out, we were surrounded by people that I barely remembered. Old men with long beards passed my mom around, giving her hugs and kissing the top of her head, like she was a long lost sister. Cam had disappeared into the crowd, probably to call Trix, and my dad was shaking hands and giving back-slapping hugs of his own. As I stood there holding Olive, I realized that, while I felt completely out of place, my family knew these people and felt comfortable in their company.
Mark’s arm slid around my shoulders until his forearm rested against my upper chest, and his solid form pressed against my back. If we’d been anywhere else, I would’ve laughed at the blatant show of possession, but standing in that courtyard, I was thankful for the solidarity.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” an old timer said, grinning as he looked at the two of us. “You have to be Doc’s kid.” He laughed, reaching out to shake Mark’s hand. “I’d recognize that face anywhere.”
“Yup, that’s Woody,” my dad said, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Your old man was a good’un,” the old guy said. Then his eyes came to me. “And you have to be CeeCee. You look just like your mother did, way back when.”
“Lucky girl,” my mom sang, making everyone laugh. “What? You know it’s true.”
“Hey,” I said, smiling at him.
“Who’s the little one?” He shifted his head to the side, trying to see around Olive’s blanket.
“This is Olive,” I said, pulling the blanket down to show her face.
“Well, hello, Olive,” he whispered. “I’m Chunky.” He leaned back and whistled. “Hell, girl, that’s a fresh one. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“Well, now that you mention it,” I joked.
“Well, come on inside,” he said to the group. “We’ll get you settled and make introductions then.”
“His name is Chunky?” Eli asked in amusement as we followed the group. “Do you think at some point he actually was?”
“He was bigger when we were young,” Mark replied. “Think he had a bout with cancer a few years back.”
“How do you even know that?” I asked in surprise, looking up at his face.
“Poet likes to talk,” Mark said, his lips twitching. “I barely get a word in when I call to catch up.”
“I miss him,” I said with a sigh. I had to admit, that was one thing I was looking forward to when we got to Eugene. Poet and Amy. They were old as dirt and a couple of the kindest people I’d ever met. They’d seen everything and nothing I’d ever done had surprised them or made them look at me differently.
“He misses you, too,” Mark murmured, kissing the side of my head.
The inside of the clubhouse was both familiar and completely alien. I had flashes of memory, running around the pool tables and hiding from Cam underneath the bar, but the strongest sense of recognition came from the smell. Hardwood and beer and leather and grease with just a hint of sweat. Just like the clubhouse in Eugene. Jesus, it was like coming home.
“Hey, mama,” a rounded woman with short, salt-and-pepper hair said as she reached us, giving my mom a sweet smile. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“You cut that glorious hair,” my mom replied, smiling huge. “And it looks goddamn fantastic. I hate you.”
The woman laughed as my mom hugged her, and something in me settled as they held the hug longer than necessary, whispering into each others’ ears as they rocked side to side. When they finally pulled apart, they both turned to look at me.
“CeeCee, this is Eileen. You probably don’t remember her, but when you were little, she used to carry you around all damn day.” Mom chuckled. “At one point, she strapped you to her back just so she could get things done.”
“You must be exhausted,” Eileen said. “Poor thing. Come on, I’ll get you settled in a room.”
Mark’s arm tightened and Eileen’s mouth twitched. “We’re not goin’ far,” she told him. “But she’s dead on her feet.”
“I’ll be in soon,” Mark murmured into my ear. “I need to have Forrest check on my shoulder.” I nodded. Part of me wanted to giggle at the fact that he thought I needed some sort of protection. I was as safe as I’d ever been in my entire life, surrounded by these people. It didn’t matter how far I’d run or how long I’d been gone, we both knew these were my people. My tribe. But the other part of me was comforted to know that he wasn’t just going to disappear now that I was safe. I didn’t let myself dwell on that realization.