Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Even with the reminder, it still took a second for Cash to roll his shoulders and take measures to actively reduce his stress. What were the good parts of his life? He took a deep centering breath and held it. As frustrating as that man upstairs was, Cash now understood love. A deep, unbalanced, unhinged, desperate, sometimes degrading emotion… Stop. Wrong direction.
He exhaled in a whoosh and took another long inhale. This breath he released slowly.
He and Dev were absolutely going to need counseling after this case. If he had any hope of continuing their relationship, Dev had to stop manipulating… Stop the negative energy. He exhaled.
His parents… His mom. Warmth descended like one of her loving hugs as he inhaled again. She was the most caring person he’d ever met. Her guidance and compassion had made him into the man he was today. He released the next breath slower, feeling better.
On instinct, he went through the steps to secure the call and hide his number before dialing his mother.
When he pressed the call option, he brought the phone to his ear, and looked over his shoulder, making sure the door was shut tight. The irrationality of protecting Dev also applied to his parents. They were lovely people who wouldn’t stand a chance against the evil forces dominating Cash’s world at present. They were also the way to bring Cash to his knees. He might not ever survive the guilt if he brought all this hate to their doorstep.
“Hello?” his mother answered on the second ring. Cash smiled, a welcoming peace settled over his heart. She was the best medicine. He needed to hear her voice.
“Hi, Mom,” Cash said, quietly. He closed his eyes as goodness filled his soul.
“Cashin… I hoped it was you. We missed your call on Thanksgiving. It broke my heart. How are you, son?” she said. She had a way of making him believe it truly broke her heart not to hear from him. The first genuine grin he’d had in days stretched his cheeks.
“I’m good, Mom. Everything’s good. Just busy. How are you and Dad?” he asked, thinking about the travel trailer he’d grown up in. The same one they still lived in today. In a world of darkness and destruction, his mother and father had chosen to stay good at heart. Now he understood the choice and respected them more for it.
“We’re fine, only missing our boy…” There was rustling on the other end of the line, then his father’s deep voice came through.
“Hello,” his father said. “Hello. Are you there, son? I don’t think he’s there, Mama.”
“Hi, Dad,” Cash said, smiling. “I’m here.” He envisioned them standing at the tiny built-in center island that was the hub of the small home. His parents were together all the time, usually at that table, working on something. Another choice they made.
“He’s here, Mama,” he said, as if his mom may have been worried. “I’m heading out to man the store. We’re gettin’ holiday business. Don’t wait so long to call next time. I love you.” Any lingering anxiety faded. Cash sat up a little straighter, keeping the chuckle inside.
His parents’ traveling ministry sold fresh baked treats made by his mother and handmade tools and trinkets crafted by his father. Between the funds of those sales and the money Cash contributed every month, his parents made enough to teach their version of spirituality to their four or five regular parishioners, a.k.a., their stoner friends.
Once Cash had left the nest to attend his first year in college, he’d been shocked to find pot was illegal. His parents and their ministry were super fans.
Cash’s shoulders relaxed at the special memory. His parents had taught him right was always right. Love, peace, and charity were the best parts of the world.
“We’ve had a booming day,” his mom added. “We’ve already made five hundred dollars. That’ll pay park costs for a good while.” She sounded proud for them. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Better now that I hear your voice. Go make your sales. I wanted to say hi,” he explained.
“Are you truly good, Cashin?” his mom asked, reading him like a book.
“I am,” he answered after a moment’s pause, leaving out the word now. “Are you and Dad really doing good?”
“Oh, blessed, baby. Just like always,” she said. “Your father was able to get a good deal on some new-to-us tires for the truck.”
He stopped her before the appreciation of what he sent each month rolled from her lips. “I love you guys. I believe in you, but listen, I had a dream about the bread dough you knead. I feel like that means you’re gonna have to teach me.”
The door opened to the apartment turned gym. Cash glanced over his shoulder to see Dev quietly coming inside. He shut the door as if Cash’s privacy included him too. As the lead on this case, anyone else on their small team would have backed out when they saw him on a call. Hell, they wouldn’t have opened the door without knocking. When he didn’t answer, they’d walk away until he emerged.