Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Cohen’s hand slid across the table and took me by my wrist, his thumb moving gently through the hairs on my arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Even though words like those usually felt trite to me, I could really feel how much he meant them. I knew they weren’t only for my experience, but because of his own loss.
“The reason I’m even over here is that Big Daddy has gotten the business to this state because of what happened with Momma. We all pitched in to be there for him, as best we could, but for a while, well…we weren’t sure he was even going to stick around to take care of the place.”
The expression on his face made it evident he got my meaning.
“That said, I think he feels guilty that the finances are in bad shape, even if he was barely holding on to his life at the time, let alone the distillery.”
“He clearly loved your mother a lot.”
“I think we all took for granted that she was going to be around forever.”
“I know the feeling.”
His words pulled me out of my own grief, shifted my attention to his.
“I was so young when it happened, though, and I have great memories of her smiling and laughing with me. We lived in this little apartment. She loved decorating it. We’d do crafts together and put them up all over the house. She kept a bunch in a bin too. I always wondered what they were for. Maybe she kept them for my dad.” He paused, then continued, “She was always laughing and playing. Once in a while, when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, I would catch her looking sad. I’d ask her what was wrong, and she’d say she was missing someone, and then make a joke, and that easy, the subject would be changed. I’m glad that most of what I can remember are those good times, but they definitely leave me wondering about what could have been.”
I rested my hand on top of the one he held to my wrist, and we gazed into each other’s eyes.
As much fun as it was to see the playful, frisky Cohen I’d come to know, there was something special about seeing this side of him.
I wasn’t sure if he was anything like me, but I didn’t share shit like that…not with my family, or my friends, or anyone, really. But for a moment, as we held each other, as I felt his comfort and support, I didn’t feel so goddamn alone.
He started to say something just as the microwave beeped, interrupting a moment that had gone from being so playful to somber-as-hell far too quickly.
As he retrieved the plate of beef from the microwave and placed it on the counter, I checked for a reply from Walker.
Good. Dwain was going to make lasagna. *barf*
It brought my mood up a bit as I imagined my brother’s face when Dwain put his watery lasagna down in front of him.
“Based on Walker’s text, sounds like I’m dodging a bullet this evening,” I told Cohen.
He fished through the cupboards for some supplies, saying, “You guys are clearly very family oriented, but I’m surprised you don’t have any families of your own. I would have expected, given your ages, you’d all be married with kids.”
“Walker, obviously, has a conflict of interest with that. I just have a great talent for picking out partners who are never all that serious. Dwain and Lee would have to spend five minutes out of each other’s sight to get girls…or anyone, for that matter. But we did almost have a little one. Mel got pregnant two years ago, while she was in school. And, life had other plans. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up. We were just getting out of the serious territory.”
“No, I’m glad you did. I’m glad we’ve talked about everything we have. You know, sometimes it’s hard to remember what an amazing cock you’re sucking.” He glanced over his shoulder, winking at me, and it lightened my mood once again.
“We O’Ralleys are big on our secrets, as you can probably tell, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to about some of these things that we just sort of sit on as a family.”
He stopped fiddling with the box of noodles, set it on the counter, and approached me again. “I told you, I trust you, and it’s nice seeing that you trust me enough to share this stuff. Sometimes it feels like we have to carry these things on our own, and it’s nice when we don’t, for even a little bit of time. Anyway, what fun would BJs be if we didn’t have something we needed cheering up from?”
The playful expression on his face got me snickering again.
I fidgeted a bit, searching around. “You have to have some whiskey around here. This is not the kind of talk that needs to be had without some of that crap Mitchell whiskey.”