Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
“Your dad’s working on fixing that. His brother should’ve never taken that from you. God, it boils my blood. I can’t believe him sometimes. The things he thinks he can get away with…” She sighs out a tight breath. “I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with that.”
I didn’t know my dad’s trying to resolve my Scottie problem. Strange feelings wrestle inside of me, and I tell her, “Yeah. You know how Scottie can be.”
“He got another two years. Did you hear?”
“Yeah, I heard.” He never got let out early like he thought he would, and my dad said Scottie had been so pissed, a screw came loose. Got in a fight with a guard. Did some other stupid, senseless shit. Think he might keep doing it until he’s stuck there for a good decade.
The world’s better with him behind bars. He’d cannibalize his own family for a hit. Sometimes, I think my mom would too.
Then sometimes, I think she’s sweet enough to love.
Sometimes, I think I love her.
I can’t even say why I do, other than the fact that she’s my mom. And she had me when she was fourteen. Her life was rough. Her family kicked her out when she got pregnant with me, and she didn’t have the type of money Lily and Lo did to dig herself out of the trenches she was drowning in.
I don’t hate her. Not even a little bit.
I’ve never wanted to carry any hate in my heart. For anyone.
“You working?” she wonders.
“Nah, I’m off-duty.”
There are things I’m going to avoid talking about.
But she doesn’t ask me about my security job. She doesn’t ask me about the rich Hale girl I was caught kissing in a dive bar. She has a TV in prison and magazines, so she knows—and I’m sure my dad told her about it.
What shocks me most is what she does say.
“You deserve time off,” she says…lovingly. “It’s Christmas after all.” I hear her smile again. “Merry Christmas, baby. I hope next year is gonna be the best one for you.”
My eyes burn so bad, I can’t see in front of me. “Yeah.” I hear my choked voice. “You too, Mom.” When we hang up, I blink a few times, trying to remember a time where she’s wished me a Merry Christmas. Trying to remember the last time I called her Mom over the phone.
Slowly, gradually, I spin back around toward the lake house. The road isn’t empty anymore. Farrow is standing three car lengths away. Far enough that the gap should feel infinite and cold, but the space between us has never felt cavernous.
It’s felt like he’s always been right there, beside me.
I breathe easier. “Luna told you?” I ask.
“Yeah, she told me.”
I almost smile, thinking of Luna going to Farrow. I like that she recognizes I’m not alone in this world either.
You are my family. That’s never changing. I blink back more emotion, remembering what he said to me last month.
I love Farrow. It hits me—it hits me so hard that I look away from him. It’s not the first time it’s crashed against me this hard.
I was eighteen and he offered to answer my dad’s phone calls. Like it was some simple thing. He never made a big deal out of it. Never even wanted a thank you.
Sometimes I wonder if he’s the first person I truly loved. Because loving my parents never felt like this.
“Why’d your mom call?” Farrow asks, blowing on his bare hands. He didn’t grab a jacket. He’s only wearing a long-sleeve black Third Eye Blind shirt.
I walk forward. “To wish me a Merry Christmas.”
His brows shoot up and pinch. “No shit?”
“Thought I hallucinated it for a minute too.” I’m a foot away. “She hasn’t said it in years. So…”
He’s looking at me with caution tape over his eyeballs.
“What?”
“Man, that’s the bare minimum.”
“Didn’t hear you say it,” I tease.
He lets out a short laugh, then nods to me. “Merry Christmas, you blue-eyed shameless motherfucker.”
I grin. “Merry Christmas, Dr. Kale.”
“Hale.”
“Right. Maximoff Hale’s main man.”
“Only man,” Farrow corrects and flips me off.
I laugh, and as soon as he hears the noise, he’s laughing too. On our trek to the lake house, the air is lighter, like oxygen is richer in this direction.
I contemplate my mom finally doing the bare minimum. It’s a start, isn’t it?
“She’s got a long way to go,” I tell Farrow. “Sky’s the limit though. Maybe she can Peter Pan the clouds with the Hales.”
He gives me a wary look.
“What?” I start grinning again. “Did Maximoff steal your Christmas funny bone? You deny him a blowie?”
He peels foil off a stick of gum. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“Resting your jaw.”
Farrow throws up another casual middle finger, then pops gum in his mouth.
“It is the season of giving,” I say lightly.
“And how’s this season going for you?” Farrow asks me, referring to Luna.