Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129179 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Gathering up my courage, I turn off my car, get out and inhale. The scent of Nanny’s heirloom roses soothes my soul enough that I’m able to feel a bit calmer. I can do this. Hell, I have to do this because it isn’t like I can avoid him forever. We own a home together, after all.
* * *
Night After The Funeral
“Yummy,” I groan as I set the sugared lemon I sucked after taking a lemon drop shot down on a bar napkin.
“Good stuff, right?”
I grin and give Lolo the thumbs up. “Delicious,” I answer. “In fact, I might even have another.”
“You should slow your roll so you don’t wind up praying to the porcelain god later.”
Lolo, Sam, and I all burst out laughing at the same moment.
“In the last two hours I’ve nursed one beer and now I’ve taken one shot. I’m not anywhere near drunken puke status,” I assure him.
“Funny that you haven’t had a peep to say about the two beers I’ve had or the three fingers of Glenorangie in my glass right now,” Sam points out.
Colin looks abashed for a fraction of a second before he grins and makes a dismissive gesture. “I’m fairly certain that Irish whiskey runs through your veins,” he jokes. “We all know you could drink at least half this bar under the table without breaking a sweat.”
Sam raises her glass in a mock toast. “Factual,” she concedes before taking a sip. “Doesn’t change the fact that a beer and a shot aren’t going to put your Little Bird down, though.”
Colin coined the nickname Little Bird for me during the first year I lived on the Findlay property. He’d started calling me that because I used to swing on the elaborate wooden swing set the Findlays had installed in the yard for me for hours on end. He used to joke that I spent more time in the air than on the ground—something that became even funnier when I took up cheerleading and became a fly girl.
Sam and Colin have some kind of weird stare-off for a few seconds before he inclines his head at her in concession.
It’s not like he can really deny it since it’s very noticeable that Colin is protective of me—more so in the last few years than ever. For some reason he seems to worry more now than he did at any point in time before.
“Who’s up for a game of pool?” he asks.
I’m up and off my bar stool in a blink. “Me! I’m breaking.”
The three of them laugh in unison. “Of course you are!” Lolo snorts. “We don’t call you the ball breaker for nothing.”
I shrug as we begin walking back to the game room that holds four pool tables, six pinball machines and three dartboards. On the weekend, the bar is jam-packed but since it’s a weeknight we’re able to go right to an empty table.
We pair off as we always do—Team SamLo and Team ColEna. We’re evenly matched and we all play the same way because Pop is the one who taught us how right at his prized mahogany pool table in the basement.
The way we do it is that after the first round the top two players on either team play each other. Colin and I win the first round but since he sank more balls, he’s facing off against Sam. After taking a seat at one of the pub tables against the wall, Lolo and I place an order with the waitress for two more lemon drop shots. After the waitress goes to the bar to put in our order, Lolo turns her attention to me.
“Are you ready for tomorrow?”
I scrunch up my nose in confusion. “What’s tomorrow?”
“Will reading,” she reminds me.
I nod. “Oh, yeah. I was more worried about getting through today. Honestly, I was surprised when Sam’s dad said I was included in it at all.”
She frowns as she traces her index finger in an infinity pattern on the tabletop. “It’s always hard, even when you know what to expect. After my father died and everything was said and done, the thing that hit me the hardest was the will reading. It made it final for me—more than the funeral, even. I’m not sure why.”
“I can see that,” I say as the waitress slides our two shots onto the table. After paying her, we quickly clink shot glasses before downing the deliciously cold shot and sucking on the sugar-covered lemon wedges to finish the drink off. For the next few minutes, we sit and cheer on Colin and Sam as they blow through their lightning round of pool. When it’s all over, Sam is the victor. They high-five before they start going about the re-setting of the table. Once they hang the sticks back in place on the wall, they stand huddled together to talk instead of coming directly to the pub table Lolo and I are at. As the minutes pass without them coming back, I turn to Lolo for a read on the situation. “It looks like they’re discussing world peace.”