Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
The phone buzzed again, and I groaned, finally rolling over to pick it up. I stared at the phone in surprise. I’d forgotten all about the person on the other side of the text.
It was . . . not Preacher.
It was Zach.
And for the first time in years, I hadn’t thought about him in a while. Weeks, maybe. Not even once.
Can you talk?
I sighed and was about to tell him, once again, that we had nothing to talk about. I wished him well, honestly, but I didn’t see the need to rehash old wounds. Especially since I finally felt like I was well and truly over him.
It’s about the church. I’m in town for a few days to see Ma. I want to make a donation. Do something to give back.
I sat up and closed my eyes at the dizziness the sudden movement caused. Visions of me telling Zach to go to hell popped up, but so did visions of Marcus and my dance crew wearing spiffy new uniforms. Security cameras, flowers, benches . . . all that would change the whole neighborhood for Clarice, Aunt Julia, and all the other people who deserved a better place to live.
The people here who deserved to be safe and happy, not scurrying home before dark and kicking rusted cans out of their way to get in their front doors.
I swallowed and forced myself to be mature. I’d seen on the news that he got a massive contract with the NFL while Preacher was in the hospital. That was the last time I’d thought of him, I realized, chewing my bottom lip. I was genuinely happy for him and his family. He was a prodigy when it came to sports. It was well deserved. If he wanted to do something for the church, I really shouldn’t say no.
It might be annoying that it was an ex-boyfriend helping us out, but it would be selfish to turn it down just because I didn’t want to deal with the man. If he wanted to throw a couple of thousand dollars our way, it would be a huge help.
My phone buzzed again. This time, it was Preacher.
I don’t claim to be a saint, but I don’t drink much around you. I like a drink in the evening, but I don’t plan to get drunk again anytime soon.
I had to answer. Both of them. I sighed. It was ironic that I was hearing from the only two men who had ever been in my life, romantically speaking. Especially right now, when I was pretty sure I was an unattractive shade of green.
Not that it mattered. Preacher seemed like me no matter what I did, and I didn’t care what Zach thought of me. Not anymore.
It was hard to describe how freeing that realization was.
I texted Zach to meet me at the church garden and told Preacher we would talk soon. I’d made him wait a couple of days. Hopefully, he’d sobered up and had some time to think. I had to tell him he was going to be a father.
I hoped . . . it would be a happy reunion. He seemed to want a child. I prayed it was enough to get him to curb his wild ways, just a little.
I splashed cold water on my face and brushed my teeth. Twice.
It was a sweatpants and T-shirt kind of day for sure. I really didn’t care what I looked like, but I did make sure there was no vomit in my hair as I pulled it back into a ponytail and tugged on a floral printed baseball cap. I grabbed a denim jacket to cover the fact that I was not, and would not be, wearing a bra.
My boobs ached too much and I just didn’t care.
Sunglasses and lip balm completed the ‘zero fucks to give’ look. I made a cup of ginger tea and poured it into a thermos before heading out. Ginger was the only thing that seemed to help, and Clarice had brought over a box of organic teabags the day before, bless her technicolor heart.
I squinted as I stepped outside. I hadn’t left the house in a few days, emailing in homework and checking church emails on my neighbor’s Wi-Fi. I felt like a hermit emerging from a cave. It was bright out. There was no hiding the pasty shade of my olive-toned skin out here.
Ugh.
The sun was so bright today, and I hated it. I was cranky and wanted to be back in bed, watching Netflix on my ancient laptop—but only if the Wi-Fi held. I walked slowly, not feeling any rush to get where I was going. I took a deep breath as I turned the corner across from the church.
My feet felt like they were made of lead as I exhaled and pushed open the garden gate. No one was working in here today, thank goodness. But I was pretty sure people had already noticed Zach, standing in the back and considering a patch of petunias as if he were a horticulturist.