Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Finally, though, right as Tucker was about to give in and start asking questions, Walker slowed down and his shoulders slumped. “Mary Anne doesn’t want to go away to college. Like at all, not even U of O over in Eugene. She wants to stay here, go to school in Bend, get a teaching degree.”
“I see. You were planning to apply to places together?” Tucker worked to keep his tone conversational, easy, wanting to keep Walker talking.
“Well, yeah. Of course.” Walker picked his way over some rocks, not looking back at Tucker.
“But central Oregon doesn’t have Marine Biology as an option—”
That got Walker to whirl around, eyes steely. “I know.”
“Sorry.” Tucker held up his hands, then tried again. Damn, this was hard, figuring out what to say. He wanted to insist that Walker not give up his dreams for this girl, even as nice and sweet as she seemed to be. And Tucker did get her perspective too—he’d never wanted to leave this area himself, and Mary Anne came from a big, close-knit family that went back to the pioneer days. “Plenty of couples do long-distance relationships for college...”
Walker made a scoffing noise. “And how many of those break up?”
“Probably some.” Tucker couldn’t lie. Hell, he was proof that distance and young couples didn’t work out well, and he knew plenty of other stories of high school couples who couldn’t make it past a freshman year apart. The trail looped around, starting the descent that would carry them back to the trailhead parking lot. And maybe he needed the reminder that distance didn’t work for seasoned adults either. Whatever delightful dreams he’d had last night where Luis developed a burning urge to visit more often were about as realistic as Walker finding an ocean in their county.
“Distance never works.” Slowing down again, Walker kicked at a rock. “And especially not when Mary Anne has it all planned out now. Live together for college, get married—”
Tucker made a strangled noise and tripped over some roots. “Married?”
“Don’t sound so shocked.” Walker stuck out an arm to keep Tucker from falling. “You were younger than she’s planning on being.”
“Yeah, but that was different.” Looking away, he adjusted the straps on his backpack.
“Not that different.”
“Please tell me she’s not...” Tucker couldn’t even finish the thought.
“No. Your safe sex lectures paid off, so you can stop looking like you just ate a live frog.”
“Thank you.” Wiping his suddenly clammy forehead, Tucker wasn’t even going to pretend to not be relieved.
“She wants to teach a few years, then have two kids, two years apart, boy and girl.”
Lord help us. Tucker was back to having to work to keep a nonjudgmental tone. “She has some rather specific plans.”
“Yup.” Mouth thinning out to a tight line, Walker gave a sharp nod.
He started to reach for Walker’s shoulder, then thought the better of it. “Do you think your plans match hers?”
Walker rolled his shoulders. “She’s kind of planning enough for both of us. She says if I get a business degree, I can work for her dad or something.”
Tucker could barely keep back a groan. Mary Anne had ranching grandparents and various family members in businesses all around the area, but her father and uncle owned an insurance agency that specialized in farms and ranches.
“I’m absolutely not knocking insurance work, but you’ve talked about being a marine biologist for years.”
“And this is why I haven’t brought it up before now. I knew you’d be all against me switching plans.”
He wasn’t wrong, so Tucker did some deep breathing before replying, trying to find his calm and objective voice again.
“People swap majors all the time. You’re not going to let me down if you go to college and pick another path on your own.” This time he did touch Walker, a brief pat on the shoulder that he predictably shrugged off. “But swapping plans should be your idea.”
“Maybe when you love someone, their idea can be your idea?” Walker brightened like this new philosophy had just come to him.
Tucker had to take a minute to mull this concept over, try to find a way to explain nuance to a seventeen-year-old in over his head. “Sometimes. I’m not going to lie and say that love never requires sacrifices, but if you do something you truly hate or give up something you wanted more than anything, you might have some serious regrets.”
“Like you?” Face stormy, Walker looked back over his shoulder as his steps got heavier.
Ah. Maybe this was some of why he’d seemed rather conflicted about Tucker’s friendship with Luis. “You mean having you guys? No. Never. Raising you has been my life’s greatest success.”
“See?” Walker’s tone had all the self-righteousness of an investigative reporter calling out an inconsistency. “You had to do something you weren’t crazy about like getting married young to get something that makes you really happy now. Maybe a family with Mary Anne will make me happy too.”