Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 161899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 809(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 809(@200wpm)___ 648(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Which is why I can’t gamble anything on you.
“It would figure, when she’s been batting a thousand, I would be the one Lots tried to hook up with a woman who just wants to yank my chain.”
And again…
Ouch.
“Nothing to say?” he taunted.
I stood there and did nothing, but swallow.
“Yeah,” he said softly, looked me up and down…
And then he turned and walked away.
Chapter Two
Gonzo for God
Pepper
Oh my God, I’m gonna kill her,” I muttered to myself, eyeing my sister standing on my front porch as I drove up to my townhome in my boring townhome community where every structure looked like the next.
Except for how everyone was trying to outdo everyone else in outdoor home ornamentation.
Including me.
Halloween had just gone, but Thanksgiving was around the corner.
Therefore, I had my eye-catching wreath made of nothing but a dense circle of profuse orange berries on my door.
I also had a swirl of a fake, thin branch that had an attractive straggle of fall leaves artfully swagging over the beam at the front of my porch.
I further had the charmingly painted board leaning beside the front door that had the word GRATEFUL running down it and big pots filled with crowded sprays of button mums in the colors of burnt-orange and cream. These were interspersed with orange and white pumpkins on either side of the door.
And the brick steps leading to the porch had more of these pots and pumpkins carefully strewn along the sides. Interweaved with them were fairy lights timed to go on when the sun went down.
Steps that right now led up to my sister standing on my porch among my autumnal efforts to keep up with the Joneses at the same time give a homey home to my daughter so one day she’d be able to say, “My mom was so awesome. She loved the holidays. She went all out every season, decorating the house like you wouldn’t believe! She’s the greatest mom in the world!”
Yep.
That was my goal.
At least the last part was.
In other words, my décor was not the best in the complex, but it far from sucked.
I was not glorying in my holiday décor as I hit my garage door opener, and this was not only because my sister was there.
We could just say on the drive home I had not been able to find my center.
I had also not breathed and mentally retreated to my heart where I should always be safe.
Nope.
I had cried until I wondered why on earth I was crying and then I started to get mad.
Because seriously…
What in the hell?
I did not deserve that from Auggie.
No freaking way.
So his bestest buds were Mo, Mag, Boone and Axl.
And Lottie had fixed them up with fantastic women, and they were all living various versions of happy.
And some version of that didn’t happen for Auggie and me.
But not because I was playing games.
Not because I was yanking his chain.
It was because it wasn’t just me in this scenario.
And I had explained that to him.
I did this during those times I sadly, but yes, repeatedly shot him down.
Now, one could say I was glad that happened with Auggie in the parking lot of Juno’s school because I realized while driving home that it was good we never gave it a go.
Because he was a dick.
And at that present moment, for obvious reasons, I really didn’t need this, whatever it was, with my sister.
I needed to go up to my room, light some candles, get cross-legged, close my eyes, shut it all out and breathe.
I didn’t even have the car turned off before I touched the remote to lower the garage door just in case I needed to cut her off at the pass.
But by the time I hit my kitchen, the doorbell was ringing.
Part two of my bid to be all I could be for my kid in order to give her all I could give: although our townhome complex didn’t structurally have all the originality in the universe (however, the Battle of the Seasonal Outdoor Décor had grown to epic proportions, so it didn’t lack personality), the inside of our townhome was, if I did say so myself, everything.
From the garage you walked into a sea of clean white cabinets in a substantially sized kitchen. There was a shiny taupe tile backsplash set in a herringbone pattern. The island in the middle had some fun shelves on one side where I put plants, picture frames and cookbooks. The appliances were gorgeous brushed stainless steel. And the light fixture above the island, with its five bright bulbs encased in an open metal frame, was a showstopper.
The family room fed right off the kitchen.
It featured a shag rug in mushroom that was divine. Juno and I had picked a pink couch (it was more of a blush, so it was semi-neutral, not outright gaudy) with a fluffy pillow back. A circular coffee table sat in the middle of the rug and was decked with a matte blush vase filled with faux-but-didn’t-look-it milky dahlias and spikes of eucalyptus leaves. A white built-in with our books and TV and knickknacks was against the wall opposite the kitchen. And on the floors, there were some pink poofs and huge woolly-crochet-covered pillows for lounging. Peanut-colored comfy armchairs sporting big square pillows of snowy fake fur rounded that area out.