Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Y—yeah.” I realize there’s no way he can hear my thin, reedy whisper, so I try again. “I’m coming.”
“Okay, they’ll be on the table in five.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe in like a troll. I imagine trolls breathe hard. But if they don’t, then I’m sorry to all trolls out there, real or imagined.
I give myself a minute to get composed before I leap off my suitcase and slide it away from the door. I pull on a fresh pair of jeans that I got from the mall yesterday and pair it with a silky camisole and a fresh blouse overtop. I went with my favorite color—black. I guess Orion’s granny and I have something in common. It’s a good color.
The jeans are a little tight because I hate trying anything on. They’re tight in the bum area and skinnier than I enjoy, but I suck it up since they’re at least clean. Or cleanish. I know these are mall jeans here, but whatever. I already have them on.
It takes some amount of flexing and stretching and doing squats inside the treehouse to break the jeans in before I climb down the ladder and make my way into the house. Everyone is there, gathered around a table fit for medieval-style feasts. It’s one of those big beasts with benches on either side. The table is loaded down with pancakes, and honestly, I didn’t realize I was up there ruminating for as long as I was, but it’s probably been a good hour, and now it’s even getting light out.
Despite the still early hour, everyone is chipper enough. I suppose this family is used to keeping odd hours. The granny looks bright-eyed and is heaping pancake after pancake onto her plate, dousing everything in blueberry syrup and spraying on the whipped cream straight from the can.
There are a few of those sitting out, and Orion’s brother, Atlas, grabs one and sprays the whipped cream straight into his mouth. I’ve learned everyone’s names over the past few days, and I’m fairly good with remembering stuff like that, so I know his lady is named Victoria. She grabs the can away from him and shakes her head, though she gives him the loaded type of look that says they should save some whipped cream for later adventures.
I flush and sit down on the bench in the one empty spot, which is next to Orion. The family probably didn’t even plan it that way. It just happened because they’re all paired off. Alden and Azalea are across from me, Lennox and Cass are beside them, and Atlas and Victoria are to Orion’s right. Their granny is at the head of the table.
“Ransom and Ayana are still honeymooning away,” Alden explains. “They’re not joining us again, even though they’re just staycationing.”
“Oh, leave them alone.” Azalea gives him a shy smile, and they share a look between them. “They’re coming to see us off tonight. That’s more than enough.”
“Off?” My head jerks up. “You’re leaving?”
“We have to head back home. We do have seasonal jobs that start right away up there. It might be hot down here, but the rest of the world is just coming into that blurred line of spring and summer, and that’s when things get busy. Alden works at a resort, and they start in a few weeks. To the rest of the world, we’re normal people, and we like to maintain that cover. Even if we are kind of normal people.”
Alden leans in and gives his wife polar bear nose kisses. “I don’t know about normal. Or even kind of, but I don’t mind being not normal one bit.” He dabs his finger in the pan of blueberries and smears it over Azalea’s bottom lip. She squeals in protest, but he just throws his head back and laughs.
The granny looks pleased with all the affection going on around the table. Lennox and Cass happen to be giving each other googly-eyed looks, even if they’re currently not smearing food onto each other’s faces or dreaming up things to do with whipped cream later.
I don’t know whether I should tell them about my decision after dinner or now. I guess maybe now, though it might ruin breakfast. Then again, I’m not very hungry. My stomach feels a little bit like I swallowed a cannonball, and they’re definitely not meant for human consumption.
I clear my throat as a flurry of pancake activity goes on around the table. I somehow ended up with two huge ones lumped onto my plate, and I didn’t even see who put them there. “I actually…um, I’ve made a decision about your offer.” I look at the granny, but the whole table immediately ceases all noise, movement, and activity. Hands go still, and utensils clatter down. The stillness is so real and thick that it’s like getting sucked into a vacuum.