Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Maybe our lives weren’t as opposite as I’d imagined.
“I’m sorry. It’s true about some people choosing the wrong sort of person over and over. Mam’s boyfriends were always the same type.”
“You said you have younger siblings. Who’s their father?”
“He’s passed away now, but we never got along. He convinced my mother to kick me out when I was sixteen.”
Jonathan glowered. “That’s unthinkable.”
I shrugged. “I know, but it was a long time ago.”
Our food arrived, and I thanked the waiter while Jonathan continued to study me. He looked strangely impressed, and I didn’t know why.
“You’re a survivor,” he declared as I lifted the piping hot sandwich dripping with cheese.
“I guess,” I shrugged. “Well, maybe we both are. I mean, look at you. You’ve achieved a lot more than I have.”
“Because I had a mother and grandparents who loved me and didn’t kick me out of the house at sixteen. You might be where I am had your circumstances been different. You’re certainly clever enough.”
I eyed him. “How do you know I’m clever?”
“Therese has attested to it. She relayed how impressed she was with the way you deal with your learning difficulty. She said you’re very patient with yourself, but you also don’t let yourself give up when you find things hard.”
I swallowed a bite of my sandwich, feeling emotional suddenly. I’d never seen myself that way. I just always felt like a failure, struggling with reading when it came so naturally to others. I felt a warmth fill my chest at how Therese had spoken of me.
“Well, that’s nice to hear,” I said, focusing on my food for a moment before I glanced at Jonathan once more.
“You should think about giving your mam another chance. She might choose the wrong men to fall in love with, but by the sounds of it, she was a good mother to you. You don’t want to miss out on having her in your life just because you don’t like her partner.”
Jonathan’s voice turned flat “It’s hard to be around someone who keeps making decisions they should know are bad for them.”
“I can understand that,” I said, thinking of my own mother and how she almost always made bad decisions. I just didn’t see Jonathan’s situation as being entirely the same, but maybe I didn’t know all the details.
We spent the rest of lunch getting to know each other better. By the end of it, I decided I was going to keep the job working for him. Jonathan wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met before, but I liked him. It was going to be interesting having someone like him as a brother.
And sure, it was a form of nepotism to take the job, but I’d dealt with enough rough cards in my time. I figured I deserved to take advantage of an opportunity when it came my way, even if I’d skipped a few steps to get there.
For the rest of the day, my thoughts kept wandering to Mam. I couldn’t stop thinking about the circumstances of her relationship with Gerard. I hadn’t known much about my maternal grandparents, but from Mam’s account, they weren’t the most reliable. I’d always said to myself, Yeah, so that’s where she gets it from. But maybe it was more complicated than that. Maybe Mam was adrift and alone, and she sought solace in an older man, thinking he’d protect her like a parent should.
Obviously, I’d only drive myself mad thinking up scenarios. The visit to see her was looming. Only a few days left before I’d be faced with her. Would she look different or the same? Had the years in prison aged her? Hardened her further?
True to his word, Shay turned up to drive me to my next shift, which was my final day at Mr Cole’s. Of all my clients, Alan was the one I was going to miss the most. I almost regretted not agreeing to let him paint me when he asked that one time. But maybe that wasn’t meant to be. Maybe Shay was always supposed to be the one to draw me, the one to see me.
When I climbed into the car, the heat was on full blast. There was what looked to be a Chinese takeout box in the centre console and a bottle of water.
Dinner, Shay signed. Eat. He knew I’d understand because those were words he’d taught me on our bus journeys. I still hadn’t told him how my YouTube algorithm was now full of ISL tutorials, how I watched them every night before I went to sleep. I knew more sign language than he was aware of, but I still struggled to understand when he signed very fast or used signs I hadn’t come across yet.
I opened the container and found Singapore noodles, which I distinctly remembered telling him I liked. That was another thing about Shay. He remembered the small details. I told him where I was headed, and he nodded. The drive didn’t last long enough for me to finish eating. Shay cut the engine after parking across the street from Mr Cole’s house.