Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
It’s the right thing to ask because the whole way to the greenhouse, he talks about soil content and nitrogen levels, sounding more like a mad scientist than a gardener, while Luna and I nod along agreeably. When he opens the door, I can hear Elena singing. “We were swingin’. Just a-swingin’.”
There’s something about chocolate pie and fried chicken too, but I don’t know what song she’s singing. Hopefully, it’s about an actual swing and not some upside-down-pineapple, swapping type deal.
“Ms. Elena! I found some trespassers out here. Whatcha want me to do with ’em?” Bernard says, his face impassive.
“What?” Elena says, but then she turns. I watch her eyes tick left to me, right to Luna, down to our clasped hands, and then back up to our eyes. “Oh, this I’ve gotta hear. Get on in here and tell me everything.”
She’s grinning widely, and her eyes are sparkling with delight as she waves us closer. Perching herself on the edge of a wooden stool, Elena looks like she’s more than pleased to see us. She’s wearing what probably amounts to her gardening clothes—polyester pants, a designer patterned shirt, and a sunhat. She pulls her dirt-covered gloves off, setting them on the edge of the pot she’s working in.
“There’s not a lot to tell,” I try, but Elena chuckles and then Luna quietly joins in. “Okay, where do I start?”
“How about where you got that shiner?” Bernard suggests. “And was it deserved?”
It’s as good a place as any, so I tell them about Zack coming over and popping me for Luna’s honor. Luna frowns, seeming surprised by that news, and says she’ll talk to him, but I don’t need her to do that. Zack did exactly what I would’ve done, maybe less, if someone hurt my sister. Though Kayla and Luna are worlds apart in personality, and I’d be more scared that Kayla would hurt someone else than vice-versa.
“Then, Claire showed up to Blue Lake Assets to talk with my father about ‘my behavior’,” I drone, using finger quotes. I know I didn’t react well, but running to my dad—and boss—is such a dick move on Claire’s part.
Elena balks, her smile disappearing. “Excuse me, that girl did what now?”
“She’s understandably concerned,” I reply, giving Claire the benefit of the doubt. “So she asked that we no longer contact you.”
“Yet, here you are.” Elena gestures to Luna and me.
“I don’t quit that easily. Plus, I don’t follow orders very well, I’m afraid.” I’m hoping that’s a positive in Elena’s estimation.
She grins slyly and elbows Bernard, confessing, “I do like a streak of rebellion in a man.” He chuckles gruffly at her joking, sounding like an empty oil can, and I wonder how much of a rebel Thomas was. I think I would’ve really liked to know him, but learning about him through Elena is still a gift.
“I hope that’s true because I have an idea . . .” I trail off, trying to entice her, but I’m not in sales mode. I’m going pure, unadulterated honesty and praying it’s enough.
Elena claps her hands. “Let’s hear it.”
I look deeply into Luna’s eyes as I speak to Elena. “First, we’d like to clarify the truth about us. At the minimum, you deserve that.” Luna smiles back at me, and I can feel our connection weaving and growing between us.
Luna starts, telling Elena, “I’m sorry for my anxiety-driven info dump. I reached my limit because I don’t usually do things like this.”
Elena and Bernard laugh. “We couldn’t tell,” they tease.
The smile that Luna flashes is shy but grows in intensity, and I enjoy seeing the way she comes out of her shell as she gets comfortable with people. I think I’ll enjoy seeing it happen again and again for our whole lives. “Rude,” she jokes back, poorly feigning anger before looking at Bernard. “And you weren’t even there!”
He frowns. “You think we weren’t all gossiping about your hissy fit after you left? Shoot, Stanley had the tea, Nelda made the tea, and I was hanging on every word as I drank every drop.” He makes a slurping sound.
“Oh.” Luna startles uncomfortably, not sure what to say to that, but she manages to share the facts. “Carter and I did begin as art tutoring, and you could say it didn’t go well. He had the idea of bringing me along so I could speak to the art and he could focus on the finances. And then, it went haywire.”
I continue the story, taking responsibility for my part. “I sprang the ‘wife’ thing on my family at the dinner, and my dad went ballistic afterward, ordering me to tell you the truth. I decided that rather than risk this opportunity by confessing, I would make the lie about our marriage true. Luna and I got married—for real—a few weeks ago. It was a tiny ceremony, and though it was with ulterior motives, I meant the vows I gave Luna.”