Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugs, eyeing me with a shrewd expression that makes me feel sort of exposed. “So, you two work together?”
“Not exactly. He works for my dad.” What am I thinking? Nobody’s supposed to know anything about me, or us. “Please, don’t tell anybody I told you that. He would—”
“I get it. And the guys around here are worse than old ladies, gossiping and shit.” Still, she arches an eyebrow. “Your dad, he’s got money?”
“How would you know?”
“Your clothes, the watch he was wearing, the car in the driveway.”
Good point. “I needed to get out of town for a little while after some bad things happened, and he’s just here to ensure I’m safe. That’s all it is. He hates me, and he hates having to be here. Still, it was the only safe place, I guess.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty safe around here. More like dead.”
“But I kind of get the feeling it’s hard for him to be here. He would never tell me, obviously.”
“I was thinking it was just me.”
“No, it’s everybody.” And now I’m sort of glad I approached her, considering I didn’t think about it that way. Whoever she is and whatever she’s been through, I feel sorry for her – and we have him in common.
“I didn’t think I would ever see him in that house again.” She chokes a little. “I didn’t think I would ever go there again. Just being on the porch was hard. The last time I was there, it wasn’t good.”
“Oh.” What happened? I could crawl out of my skin; I want to ask so badly. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Did he…”
“Hurt me? Oh, that came after.” Bitterness seeps into her words. “When I went back, he was gone. Everything was different. I think I was in shock. His mom told me he left and she didn’t know when he’d be back. She wouldn’t tell me where he was or who he was with. I was the enemy all of a sudden.”
“What about his dad? Did he… I mean, was he…”
“His dad was a fucking monster.”
I got the feeling there was something there. Something terrible, something dark, thanks to what Mrs. Cooper told me. But to hear it like that, with all that emotion behind it, makes my head snap back. “Romero really hasn’t spoken about him.”
“Yeah, I can imagine why. Nobody misses him.”
I want to ask where he is and what happened to him, but something in her face steals my words. “You know what, I shouldn’t be talking with you about this. It’s not my place,” she decides before returning to her work.
“It’s fine. I won’t tell him.”
“It’s not fine. He’s who you need to talk to you about this, not me.” And just like with Romero, I can practically see her walls coming down. She’s made up her mind. The subject is closed.
“Thank you for talking with me at all,” I finally tell her. “You must be very busy.”
A bunch of emotions move across her face all at once. “Thank you for coming in, and talking to me,” she murmurs, offering a weak smile. “For real. At least I know I didn’t do anything to make him hate me.”
“He’s really good at treating people like that when they didn’t do anything to deserve it.” But I still feel bad, so I add, “Like I said before, I think it’s hard for him to be here. It’s not you. It’s the way being around him makes him feel.”
“You don’t need to defend him.” She lifts a shoulder before mumbling, “But thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” It’s time for me to go. I’ve already stuck my nose in where it doesn’t belong. I finish grabbing what I need without putting too much thought into it, taking everything to the register while a hundred different questions run through my head all at once. Will I ever get answers? I doubt it. I shouldn’t even bother trying since I know he’ll stonewall me like he always does. Why is it so hard for him to accept that somebody might care?
Is it because, according to Becky, he was raised by a monster? What does that mean? What was so monstrous about him? Is that why it’s like pulling teeth to get anything out of his son?
When I step out of the store, I'm almost startled by the chill in the air. That's what he does to me. I forget everything around me when I'm thinking about him. What started as a cheerful little walk to the store has turned into a brooding, and now the clouds seem darker and the wind a little stronger. It's going to storm. I wish the idea of being cooped up in the house made me feel cozy and warm, but it only creeps me out. Who am I cooped up with? What did he go through? What made him the way he is?