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)
“I’m not sure that’s true,” he replies as he pulls the box out of my hand before I can open it. “We’re not eating that tonight.”
I narrow my eyes at him and prop my hands on my hips. “Are you telling me that you’re too good for this simple, inexpensive meal?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“No, you’re not.” I take the box back. “I made this all the time for Scott and me, and I’m going to make it tonight, too.”
“Is he coming over for dinner?”
“No, but that’s a great idea.” I pick up my phone to text my brother when Tanner just laughs and picks up Petunia off the floor.
Me: Hey! If you’re hungry, come on over for dinner. I’m making our usual.
I set the phone down and grin at Tanner. “There. Sent it.”
“Okay.”
I eye him suspiciously. “You don’t mind?”
“If you have dinner with your brother? Of course not. Do I mind that you’re making pasta out of a box with plastic cheese? Absolutely.”
“Don’t be a baby.”
My phone pings, and I check it.
“He’s on his way over.”
“This should be interesting, Petunia. You get to meet your uncle Scott.”
“They’ve met.” I set a pot of water on the stove to boil. “He came the night of the fire to make sure I was okay. But she was pretty upset, so she probably doesn’t remember him.”
Tanner just laughs and laughs, and finally, I throw a piece of hard pasta at his head.
“Stop laughing at me.”
“You’re the most adorable woman I’ve ever met in my life.”
“I’m about to maim you.”
That doesn’t stop him from laughing, and then the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get it,” Tanner says.
I love bantering with him. I enjoy his sense of humor so much. I know that this meal doesn’t thrill him. Tanner’s an excellent cook, and this is definitely not something he’d make for himself.
But since I saw Scott earlier today, I’ve been craving it.
I hear the two men talking at the door, and when Scott walks into the kitchen, I grin over at him. “Hey.”
“Thanks for the invite,” he says and watches me dump the macaroni into boiling water. “You really are making that.”
“Well, yeah. It’s the only thing I know how to cook.”
He smirks. “Seriously?”
“If you’re going to mock me, you can leave.”
But he just laughs and shakes his head. “Hey, it’s food, and I’m hungry.”
“Is it food, though?” Tanner asks.
“Don’t you dare gang up on me,” I warn them both, pointing the business end of my paring knife at them.
“What are you using that for?” Tanner wants to know.
“I have to cut up the hotdogs, of course.”
He stares at me, then at Scott. “Are we going to die?”
“As long as you chew it, it’s not a choking hazard,” Scott says and pats Tanner on the back. “But I know the Heimlich, just in case.”
August 19, 2002
* * *
Dear Diary,
I freaking hate my life so much. Mom stole all the money I had hidden. It was only $27, but it was mine, and she took it. Said I had to pay for rent.
Why was I born if this is what I have to live with?
TTYL,
Sarah
Chapter Twelve
Tanner
“Do whales have ears?”
I can’t help but smile as I listen to the little boy talking his father’s ear off as they walk around the gallery. He’s full of questions.
“Yes, they even talk to each other,” the dad replies.
“What? They can talk? I want to talk to a whale.”
“They have a language we can’t understand,” is the father’s reply.
“I’m gonna learn it.” The boy’s face is set in determined lines as he follows his dad to the next piece of art to examine.
It’s early in the day, and these two are my first customers. Wayne won’t be in for a while yet, and I usually take this time to answer emails, place orders, and balance my books.
But today, I just want to enjoy the art in my showroom and check out the deliveries that came in yesterday.
I took a lot of shit from my friends when I was a kid whenever I said I wanted to work with art. I can’t draw a stick figure to save my life, but I’ve always enjoyed studying paintings, sculptures, and just about any other art form out there.
At the sound of the bell above the door, I glance up and see the man with his boy walk out, and I begin my own journey through the space.
I have something for everyone. Cowboy bronzes, paintings of wildlife, and landscapes portraits.
It’s an eclectic collection, but I’ve had success with it.
A lot of success, actually.
I straighten a canvas, then dust off a bronze piece of a woman holding a kitten, and I realize that this piece reminds me of Sarah and Petunia.
I don’t have a place for it in my house right now, but if it doesn’t sell soon, I’ll consider it as a gift for Sarah.