Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102719 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Mom crosses the kitchen and wraps me in a hug. “You know I’ll love you no matter what, right?”
I nod against her chest, feeling the hurt in my own ease ever so slightly.
“I think we’ve both felt alone a lot in our lives,” she continues. “I don’t want that for you.”
“I don’t want that for you either.”
“Well.” Mom sighs. “Let’s try to understand each other a little better then, yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s just . . . I don’t want you to hate me if I don’t make the same choices you did.”
She smooths my hair. “I could never hate you. But if I’m being perfectly honest, I’d be disappointed if you did make the same choices.”
I pull my head up. “Really?”
“Really.” She sighs. “It hurts, don’t get me wrong. But it also shows me I did a good job raising you. Your grandparents were many things, but open-minded wasn’t one of them.”
I scoff. “No kidding.”
“Think about how I was raised, then. I grew up thinking I didn’t have a choice where I ended up. I wanted you to grow up knowing you did. I didn’t always get that exactly right, but I tried my best.”
A fresh wave of tears clogs my throat. “That’s awful and . . . sweet?”
“Don’t hide who you really are because of me. I may not always agree with what you do, but I could never—” Her voice catches. “I couldn’t live without you, Lu.”
I don’t miss how she finally calls me by my name.
The name that feels the most like me.
I pull her against me fiercely. “I couldn’t live without you either, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
We stand like that in my kitchen for a while. The ache in my throat passes, leaving in its wake a cliff of exhaustion so sheer, I feel myself start to nod off on Mom’s shoulder.
“Lu?” She gives that shoulder a gentle break.
“Yeah?”
“You’re snoring.”
I make an exaggerated snort-laughing sound. “I’m just a little tired.”
“Maybe it’s not the best idea to make the drive to Bald Head today.”
“Are you trying to talk me out of going?” I pull back to eye her.
“Lu, the fact that that man had you laughing and dancing and cooking mere days after what Patrick did to you tells me everything I need to know about Riley. He’s the one.”
My breath catches. I hadn’t let myself even think those words. But now that they’re out there, I realize just how true they are.
“I think he’s always been the one,” I reply quietly.
“Then of course I’m not going to talk you out of going to him. I just don’t want you to die in a fiery car wreck in the process. Did you take the rest of the day off?”
“My boss wasn’t happy, but yes.”
“How about this? You go finish packing and take a nap. I’ll run to the grocery store and get the ingredients for some goodies we can whip up for you to take with you tomorrow. Maybe you can surprise Riley with a picnic basket of y’all’s favorite things? We can talk about some ideas for that cookbook of yours too.”
Joy grips me and doesn’t let go.
thirty-one
Riley
Riding You into the Sunset
I’m sucking wind, and Abel and Tom ain’t afraid to let me know it.
“Hurry your ass up! Seriously, what happened to your sub seven-minute mile? We’re just about to hit”—Abel checks his watch—“eight-fifty! Jesus Christ.”
Tom looks disdainfully at me, hitting me in the legs with his tail. He’s annoyed, and he wants me to know it.
“It’s the,” I pant, “cigarettes. I think?” Or the lack of sleep. The garbage I been eating in an effort to force something, anything down. Or, quite possibly, the thirty-nine cups of coffee I’ve consumed since I got out of bed this morning. Can’t remember the last time I drank any water. Tuesday? Maybe?
“You gotta quit that shit.”
“You gotta quit sticking your nose in other peoples’ business.”
We’re running on South Beach, the wind at our backs and the sun on our faces. Any other Friday, I’d be crushing the 5K Abel and I run during lunch. Weather’s great, and the weekend’s about to begin.
But Lu isn’t coming to visit, and that means I’m still stuck in hell. She didn’t say she wasn’t coming, and I didn’t press her because I’m trying to give her space. But she did blow off the FaceTime we’d planned to have last night. Said she was beat and she’d text me in the morning.
We traded pleasantries at around seven. She asked what I had going on today. I asked what she was wearing as I poured my fourth cup of coffee.
The conversation was a little horny and a lot painful. Mostly because it got me keyed up for a weekend of food and sex and music that isn’t going to happen.