Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
“I was at a public school in Windsor last semester. But it was suggested I take an early summer break.”
“You got expelled.” His expression is mildly impressed. “Did you deserve it?”
“It’s a matter of perspective.” That principal had it out for me from the first day I stepped through the doors. She took one look at my record and had her mind made up. Not that I did much to convince her otherwise.
“What’d you do?”
“My friend Derek boosted a teacher’s car from the school parking lot during a fire drill.”
Fenn cracks a smile. “Nice.”
“Bunch of us went joyriding through the neighborhood until the school resource officer set up a roadblock in front of the Taco Bell.”
“Like at gunpoint?”
“They threw out stop sticks that Derek mostly avoided, but we still blew out a tire.”
“Suburbia is wild.”
It’s also complete bullshit.
I don’t even know a kid named Derek.
But I don’t trust anyone who wants to know me, and I’m not about to hand over that kind of ammunition to some rando. A marriage certificate doesn’t make us allies.
When Mom gets back, she and David gather us around a two-tier white wedding cake and proceed to make us watch them feed each other. Then they get choked up over more teary declarations of grotesque joy, and all I’m thinking about is how to pull one of these waiters out back because someone’s gotta have a joint on them. Though I’d settle for a spoonful of arsenic at this point.
“I never imagined I’d be standing here,” Mom starts, raising a glass.
Not for lack of trying, I almost blurt out.
I manage to hold my tongue, but come on. It’s the truth. Mom’s had more boyfriends than oil changes. She spent my entire childhood dating men who weren’t interested in putting a ring on it. Despite her best efforts, she was either relegated to mistress territory, or just jerked around until they found someone who was more “wife material.” Mom’s job as a flight attendant pays well, but a lot of dudes just aren’t interested in marrying a chick with baggage. The baggage in this case being yours truly. After all the bullshit she’d been fed by guys over the years, I guess it makes sense she up and married the first one who’d offered. And I suspect the “knowing him less than three months” part was offset by the “he’s filthy rich” part.
Not that I’m calling my mom a gold digger—I can’t begrudge the woman a little financial stability. But she does have a type. And I doubt we’d be standing here so soon if David didn’t have the equivalent GDP of a small island nation.
Still, I don’t hate that she looks happier than I’ve seen her in a long time. Maybe it’s the mood lighting, or the white cocktail dress, but she’s especially beautiful tonight. For a working single mom who’s been putting up with my delinquent ass for eighteen years, she cleans up nice. So maybe I can’t begrudge her a little spontaneous self-indulgence.
“I still can’t believe this is all really happening.” She dabs a napkin under her eye, clearing her throat. “I’m thrilled to have a new son, Fennelly. And I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
She then goes on about family and love, telling me how David and I are going to become just the best of friends and he’s such a great father figure—though Fenn might have other thoughts.
I mean, let’s pump the brakes a little. This is the first time I’ve ever been in the same room with the guy. He seems normal enough. Nice, I guess. Loaded, of course. But I haven’t done the appropriate legwork yet to determine where the bodies are buried, and I’m not about to start calling him Dad.
“I never imagined I’d remarry,” David says when it’s his turn to speak, clutching my mother closely while sparing a glance at Fenn. “Then you smiled at me, gave me a little wink, and it was like having a first crush all over again. Every time I look at you. Every time I hear your voice. I’m falling in love for the first time.”
From his chair, Fenn rolls his eyes and drawls, “If only Mom knew she was standing in the way of your true love, she could’ve skipped the eleven agonizing months of chemo, am I right?”
“Fennelly,” David growls sharply.
I’m about ready to duck when Mom grabs David’s lapels, keeping him close to her side. “It’s okay, honey,” I hear her murmur to him. She turns to address Fenn. “I can’t imagine how difficult that is to live with,” she tells him with a sad smile. “I know your dad cherishes your mother’s memory, and I would never disrespect that. I hope we can work on being friends.”
Fenn doesn’t make eye contact. He’s on an island. I have no idea what keeps him glued to this spot when it’s obvious he’d rather jump through a window to get out of here.