Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Well, hurry,” I ordered. “We’ll be there in seven minutes.”
“Only takes me six,” she joked. “See you soon. Love you. Bye.”
I snickered as she hung up.
“Ground rules,” Lou said from the back seat. “Someone runs interference with Heather when it’s time to pay. She always pays, and then I feel guilty for weeks.”
“She likes doing it,” I pointed out, turning to look at her.
“And I love her for it,” she said in exasperation. “But I do have money.”
“Not the kind of money Myla’s parents have,” Frankie joked.
“Just because they have money doesn’t mean she needs to pay for my tchotchkes,” Lou shot back.
“I’m kidding,” Frankie replied, glancing at her in the mirror. She shot me a look. “Run interference for me, too.”
“No problem,” I said breezily, knowing my mom would see right through it.
Mom didn’t just throw money around. My parents lived in the same house that I’d grown up in, and it wasn’t anything fancy. They actually lived pretty modestly. Heather Hawthorne just liked to treat her kids when she spent time with them, and she considered Lou and Frankie her kids along with me and my brothers.
When my parents were young, my dad got a wild hair and bought a run-down house to fix up. He’d sold it, bought another, and suddenly a side business had taken off. He worked at the club’s garage full time, but he liked remodeling houses and he was good at it, so he just kept doing it. He’d kept some of the houses as rentals over the years, but he’d sold most of them—all for a profit, except for the ones me and my brothers had bought from him.
Frankie honked the horn as we pulled into my parents’ driveway.
“Thank you,” I said, watching the front door. “If I have to go inside to get her, we won’t leave for half an hour.”
“Their house is a little like a time warp,” Frankie agreed. “It never feels like we’re there very long until we step outside and realize it’s been hours.”
“Half the time I fall asleep on the couch,” Lou said, leaning forward between the seats.
“It works for you,” I assured her. “It goes with the homeless waif thing you’ve got going.”
“I don’t look homeless,” she protested, smacking me.
“Not a modern homeless person,” I replied defensively, leaning away from her reach.
Frankie nodded. “Like a Victorian waif. All pale and skinny and ethereal.”
“And they’re unhoused people,” Lou snapped.
“Poor choice of words,” I conceded. “I apologize.”
“You’re more like a fairy,” Frankie said conciliatorily.
“What, like Tinkerbell?” Lou huffed incredulously.
“No, like that one in Lord of the Rings,” Frankie said, waving at my mom through the windshield.
“There are no fairies in Lord of the Rings,” Lou argued.
“She means Arwen,” I said, watching as my mom threw her huge purse over her shoulder and sauntered toward us. “She’s an elf.”
“Oh, okay, I’ll accept that,” Lou said, sitting back in her seat.
“My girls,” Mom called as I rolled down my window. “I’ll sit in the back with Lou!”
“That’s good,” I replied as she opened the back door. “Because I wasn’t going to give you my seat.”
“Cute.” She wrinkled her nose before smiling. “Thanks for picking me up!”
“Anytime,” Frankie said, putting the SUV in reverse. “You ready to hunt for some treasures?”
“Yes. I’ve been looking online—”
“Mom’s the queen of social media shopping,” I cut in.
“Shut it,” she replied, no heat in her tone. “When people sell shit in the local groups, they just want to get rid of their stuff, so it’s usually cheaper than actual estate sales where they’re trying to make a profit.”
“She’s not wrong.” Lou chuckled.
“Anyway,” Mom said. “I’m looking for jadeite, so if you see some, let me know.”
“Got it,” Frankie replied. “I’m still searching for matching nightstands. The condition doesn’t matter as much because I’ll refinish them anyway.”
“Any specific style?”
“I’m not sure what I’m looking for yet,” Frankie replied. “I’ll know when I see them.”
“Pyrex for me,” Lou said. “Any of them. I’m not picky, but condition does matter.”
“I’ll keep an eye out,” my mom said happily. “What about you, daughter? Looking for anything specific?”
“Nope, just there to browse.”
“Which means you’ll come home with more than the rest of us put together,” Lou joked.
“Probably,” I said, grinning at her over my shoulder. “I’m keeping an eye out for Christmas, though, and anything I get for someone else doesn’t really count.”
“That seems fair,” Lou agreed.
“I’m already half done with Christmas,” my mom said proudly. “I thought buying for five kids was overwhelming when you guys were little. I really should’ve realized at some point you would have families of your own and the gifts would multiply exponentially.”
“We should do an exchange,” I replied distractedly, looking at my phone again. No notifications. “We could do a secret Santa or something. Then you wouldn’t have to buy so many.”
Mom hummed. “No, I like getting presents for everyone.”