Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“Why? Why do I deserve it? I stayed with a man who mentally and financially abused me for years. I abandoned my brother and my best friends. My community.”
“And you came home and apologized, and in case you missed it, your community loves you. But all that aside, you deserve respect and love because you’re a damn human being. Period. You’re a person, and you have feelings. So, the next time some asshole won’t look you in the eye, you say, hey, my eyes are up here.”
I snort at the idea, but Luna just raises her eyebrows.
“I’m not kidding.” She narrows her eyes and gives me the mom look. The one that says, you’d better listen to me, missy.
“You’re gonna make an excellent mother someday. You have the mom stare down pat.”
Her lips twitch, but she still doesn’t smile.
“I want you to promise me that you’re going to start standing up for yourself because you know that you deserve better.”
“I will.” I swallow and nod, already feeling better. “I have to, because otherwise, I’m going to go crazy. We’re not even in the heart of tourist season yet, Luna. It’s not even that busy, and this is already happening. I can’t go through a whole season of it. I can’t go to work every day, worried and scared that someone is going to be mean to me, so I’m on edge all the time.”
“No one can do that and stay sane. No wonder you’re not sleeping.”
“Do you know what occurred to me this morning?” Feeling moderately better, I return to organizing my supplies. “I was out on the beach, and I found an agate.”
“You always loved that.”
“I know. I still do. Anyway, I remembered that by the time I was about sixteen or so, I’d collected a good-sized jar, full of pretty agates. All different shapes and sizes. And one day, my mom barged into my bedroom, drunk or high as usual, and asked me a question.”
“What did she ask you?”
My eyes find hers. “She wanted me to drive her to the liquor store so she could get more alcohol. And I said no. Dad was passed out somewhere, and he’d beaten the hell out of Scott that morning, just for funsies.”
“God, I hate those people.” She drags her hand down her face. “Like, hate.”
“So, I stuck my little chin out and I said, ‘No, Mom. You’ve had enough. Just go to sleep.’”
“And that pissed her off,” Luna guesses.
“Oh, yeah. She saw my jar of agates on my dresser, and because she knew I loved those things, she grabbed it and hurried away from me, ran outside to the dumpster, and threw it in so violently, the jar shattered. She warned me that if I tried to jump in and get the rocks, she’d break my hands into tiny pieces, just like the jar.”
“Hate’s too easy of a word for how I feel about your parents.”
“I’d been collecting them for years, and they were just gone, all because I didn’t want her to get more liquor.”
“No, it was because you stood up for yourself,” she says quietly, and I suddenly smell roses filling the room. “It’s because you took a stand against a bully, and you paid for it. And ever since then, you’ve given in because if you stand up for yourself, you might lose something that you love.”
I stand in silence, staring at my friend, and feel the blood leave my head.
“You’re right.” I sit on the stool I use when I paint and swallow hard. “You’re totally right.”
“I should have gone to school to be a psychologist.”
I grin at her. “I can’t afford you.”
“This one is on the house.”
We stare at each other for a long moment, and then I blow out a breath.
“Well, I’m officially done being a doormat, all because my mommy was a bitch. No more, Luna.”
“Atta girl. You’ve got this.”
“Okay, you go away so I can work now. I’m feeling moody, so I think I’ll do the stormy seascape for the south suite upstairs.”
“Oh, perfect. I can’t wait to see it. Holler if you need anything. I’m going to bring you some spaghetti in about an hour.”
“Yum. Thanks. And not just for the spaghetti.”
“You’re welcome.”
She winks, and then she’s gone, and I’m left in the inn with my paints and Rose.
“Okay, Rose, let’s do this.”
“Hey, Sarah,” Angela says the next day at work. She gestures for me to come talk to her by the computer.
“Hey, what’s up, Ang?”
“I have an evening shift again tomorrow, and I have to go pick up my kid in Newport at about five, and I was hoping you’d cover for me.”
“Oh.” I start to immediately agree, and then I remember that tomorrow is my first day off in almost a week, and it’s been the week from hell. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you out this time.”