Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91299 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
We do have a wonderful family. I can’t deny that.
“Is this why things didn’t work out with you and that hillbilly? Did he cheat on you?”
“Ma, stop calling him that, and no, he didn’t…yet.” I set my coffee cup on the end table and look at her.
Her eyes widen, and realization dawns in her gaze. “Charm…you think…you think just because your dad…” Her voice trails off.
“He’s a lot like Pop—handsome, charismatic, everybody wants him. I don’t understand why he’d want someone like me forever.”
Emotions flit over her face: regret, remorse, and then fear. She stands up and comes over to sit next to me. “Don’t do that. Don’t be afraid to love. Please. You’ll never be happy if you don’t give people a chance. Me and your dad aren’t perfect, I know, but that is us, just us, not you. Please don’t…” Her voice breaks, and for the first time since I drove away for freshman year at Waylon, I see tears in my mom’s eyes. They spill over, and I suck in a breath.
“You deserve happiness, deserve it so much, and I know I get a little out of hand and push you, but I never ever want you to look at me and Pop and think all relationships are bad. Use what you know about us—the good times, the times we laugh—use it and listen to that voice inside you, the one that knows you’re a smart girl with so much to offer, more than me at seventeen and pregnant. Don’t let my mistakes ruin your future, Charm, please.” More tears slide down her face and my insides crumble. She’s strong, the backbone of our family, and I’m making her cry.
“Ma,” I whisper. “You didn’t make a mistake…you got Paulie and me and Mattie…” But my voice cracks and I can’t finish.
“I’m not strong like you, Charm. I’m not. I never went to college. I got married and had a baby before I was eighteen, and I don’t regret any of it, not for a second, even the bad times with your dad. We were so young, don’t you see? He was only nineteen with a wife and a baby and a business. We grew up together while we were married and that’s hard and sometimes people make mistakes. But don’t you doubt for a minute that we don’t love each other. But you…you’ve got the whole world in the palm of your hand. You’re going to have everything, and you’re going to love someone someday, and he’ll be the right one because you’ve got fire in you I don’t. He’ll see it, he will, I swear. You got the best of us, baby girl.” Her arms engulf me and she squeezes me tight, her shoulders moving as she tries not to cry and fails.
She feels good in my arms, holding me with such care, and I think it’s how good moms do it. I don’t even realize I’m crying too, and we weep together, women who love deep and hard and strong. We never give up, we don’t.
But I did.
“I’m sorry, Ma. I don’t know what’s really between you and Pop. I haven’t walked in your shoes, but if there’s one thing I do know, it’s that I couldn’t have asked for a better home to grow up in. You and Pop did a good job. You’ve given me so much more than some kids get.”
“Just promise me you’ll live your life with an open heart, okay?” she says. “Don’t lose faith in love, please. Your journey will be different from mine.”
I close my eyes and nod. “I want to. I want to trust, and I was close, but he…he never said—” I stop, thinking, finally seeing the truth.
He doesn’t have to tell me he loves me. Because my soul knows he does. It’s in his eyes. Always has been.
“What’s all the blubbering about out here?”
We unfurl our bodies and look up. Mattie stands at the back door, one foot in, one out. Tall and skinny in pj pants and a headful of dark ruffled hair, he’s still got a sleepy look on his face.
He scratches his unshaven jaw. “Ah, I get it—you two got your period, didn’t you? Damn, I guess this means I’m going to the market for cupcakes and tampons.”
I laugh and wipe my face. “Morning. In case I didn’t tell you last night, I’ve missed you. How are you enjoying living at home at twenty-five?” I grin. I bet he’s in hell.
“Miss you too, sis. Your accent is fucked by the way. I can’t even tell where you’re from anymore.”
“No cussing, Mattie. God’s listening,” Ma admonishes, but there’s no heat there.
He grimaces. “Fine. Scoot over on that couch and let me sit down. Enjoy my good looks and charming personality. You two look like you need it.”