Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“I don’t… he’s not… it’s… new,” I decided.
We hadn’t discussed specifics. It seemed like he was interested in continuing to see me, but we hadn’t had that much time together since the night after the park. And we spent a lot of that night fucking and sleeping.
Then I had work.
He had church.
We’d texted and he’d shown up at work for a drink, but he had some work shit to do as well, so it hadn’t been a long visit.
“Can I give you a little piece of advice?” he asked, turning with his cup of coffee.
“Sure.”
“If someone is making you look that carefree and happy this quickly, maybe that’s someone worth getting serious with.”
“I… it’s complicated,” I said. “He’s… let’s just say you probably wouldn’t approve.”
“Honey, do you really think I’ve lived in Navesink Bank all these years without knowing who the Henchmen are?” he asked, making my head whip up to find him watching me, his face unreadable. “The way I see it, it isn’t my place to tell a grown woman who she should and shouldn’t date. Besides, any man who brings a woman he isn’t even seriously dating a mini pig is probably a keeper,” he declared, eyes twinkling a bit.
“He’s definitely… unique,” I said, nodding. “Do you have any regrets in the relationship department?” I asked, finding more and more the past few days that I wanted to know about him. Before he was gone and I wouldn’t get the chance to know more.
“You know, I never met the woman who made me look the way you’re looking,” he said, shrugging. “I’m not saying I would have known she was the one when I saw her or anything irrational as all that. But I think that if I’d found a woman who piqued my interest enough, I would have slowed down for her. She just never came my way, I guess.”
I couldn’t wrap my head around seeing your life as all but done. Even in the lowest parts after a breakup, when I wasn’t interested in anything with anyone again, I knew that I had time. To change my mind. To try again. To maybe find something important.
It was that way with all things I’d been through.
Even though, of course, none of us actually knew how long we had left, we all assumed it would be old age that got us, and that there was plenty of time to go.
But to look at your life and see just… six months to a year ahead of you, that had to make you really reevaluate your life, see all the would haves, could haves, and should haves.
I wasn’t sure how he could do that.
But maybe he thought he’d lived a good enough life for his standards. We all had different wishes and desires. Some of us wanted to travel, others loved nowhere as much as home. Some wanted wives and kids, others loved their work.
There was no one who could deny that my father had led a charmed life. All the money he could need to do whatever he wanted with.
Perhaps he never saw himself married with kids, home for dinner and bath time every night, planning child-friendly vacations every summer.
“What is even your type of woman?” I asked.
“I like long-legged blondes,” he said, smiling.
So not my mom at all.
“And what about her personality? Sweet and demure, knows how to plan a dinner party, runs the local DAR chapter?” I teased.
“Actually, I like a sharp, no-nonsense kind of woman who knows her own mind. Someone who doesn’t need me, just wants me. When she can fit me into her busy schedule,” he said, smiling for a second before it fell, likely seeing that the potential for her was all but gone now.
I didn’t feel a lot of warm and soft to my father, since he was still so new to me, but I had an almost overwhelming urge to walk over and give him a hug.
Really, the only thing holding me back was knowing he would see it as pity, and that he was too prideful for that.
“Looks like you have company,” he said, looking out the window that overlooked the backyard.
“I’m not expecting anyone,” I said, walking over to the window to look out, confirming that it wasn’t Dezi’s borrowed club SUV heading down toward my place, but a sleek white one instead.
“Go see who it is,” my father invited. “I don’t really have any tasks for you today anyway,” he added.
I somewhat doubted him, but I was too curious to fight him on it.
“Okay. I have my phone if you think of anything,” I said, giving him a smile before heading out and making my way down the long driveway toward the guest house.
And as I got closer, I knew for sure it wasn’t Dezi.
It was a group of women.