Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78894 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
She stared at me for what felt like forever. With a shake of her head, she finally answered. “It means you’d probably be making more money watching little Charlie than all of your silly jobs combined.”
And there it was. I loved my mother, but when given the chance to bring up what I did for a living, she always jumped at it. A familiar rush of anger swelled up in me. It happened anytime my mother degraded my jobs.
“I happen to make a decent amount of money, Mom. I have my own house.”
“You rent,” she deadpanned.
Drawing in a deep breath, I went on. “I’m able to have all the things I want, so I don’t see what the issue is.”
She rolled her eyes. “Palmer, you pick up other people’s dog poop. Is that really what you want to do with the rest of your life?”
I frowned. “No, it’s not.”
“Then why are you doing it?”
It was my turn to fight the urge to stomp my foot and cross my arms. Okay, I did cross my arms, but in a very adult kind of way.
“I do it because it pays for my rent, my food, and other things. I do it, along with my other jobs, because I don’t know what I want to do with my life, Mom. But I know I love animals, and I like what I’m doing right now.”
She sighed. “You could always take over as manager of the restaurant. I know Ruby would keep you on when we finally sell it to her.”
A strange pang hit me in the chest when my mother mentioned how she and my father would sell the Seaside Grill at some point. They had owned it my whole life. I’d practically grown up in that restaurant and had some amazing memories there, but that didn’t mean I wanted to run it for the rest of my life. The restaurant was something my parents loved. It was their passion. Not mine. But I also had zero ideas about what I wanted to do with my life, and it was beginning to frustrate me.
Oh, I had passions. I loved to paint, and I loved working with sea glass, but hardly anyone knew about my art.
“Mom, we’ve been over this a thousand times; I’m not interested in the restaurant business. That’s your thing, not mine.”
“Well,” she said with a huff. “What is your thing?”
With a wink, I said, “When I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”
Before she had a chance to reply, I swiftly turned and headed toward my brother, Braxton.
When I grew closer to him, he smiled that brilliant smile of his. No wonder women threw themselves at him with his handsome looks, brown hair, and hazel eyes.
“Trying to get away from our mother, I see.”
Sighing, I grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray a waiter was carrying as he walked by. “She said my jobs were silly.”
He let out a humorless laugh. “When I first told Mom and Dad I was going to start my own fishing charter business, they both asked why I’d want to work with fish all day. So, I asked Dad why do you want to be in a hot kitchen all day cooking for other people?”
“What did he say?” I asked.
“He said he loved doing it. I told him I loved fishing and that it made me happy. After that, they were both supportive. Same thing with Sutton. Once she told them her dream was to open her own store, they were beyond supportive.”
My parents truly were the best, and they really were supportive of their children in every possible way. Except for me. I was the wild child. The one who always got in trouble at school for talking too much or for doodling in my notebook when I should have been taking notes. I barely got through school—not because I wasn’t smart, I just never really wanted to be there. It was the main reason I refused to go to college. How can you get a degree when you have no idea what you’re meant to do with your life?
I was the one Bradley sibling who had no idea where her life was going. My parents really hadn’t bugged me much about it until I turned twenty-six. It must have been some magical number for them.
I sighed. “That’s the problem though, Brax. I have no idea what I want to do and that drives them mad. And the worst part is that I’m happy with my life. Why can’t they be happy for me?”
Braxton stared at me for a good thirty seconds before he asked, “Are you though, Palmer?”
My mouth dropped open. Was he really asking me that? “Yes. I am. I mean, at least for now. No, I am happy. I really am. Do I want to do something different with my life? Yes. Eventually. I’m simply not sure what yet.”