Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75285 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I appreciate it, Sarah. I really do. Right now, my focus is on repairing this cabin and painting.”
“And your neighbor,” she said.
“And painting,” I said, ignoring her. “Sarah, I’d forgotten how beautiful it was out here. The animals and the sunsets and the trees. It’s inspiring. I’ve already drawn one picture.”
“What was it of?”
“A bird that perched on the windowsill outside. Which reminds me, when all this is said and done, this cabin has the perfect windowsills to have little window box gardens. You know, like herb plants and shit.”
“‘Herb plants and shit.’ You make it sound so magical out there.”
“Shut up. I hate you. Anyway, just some thoughts after all this big stuff’s taken care of,” I said.
“It sounds like you’re preparing to set up camp there.”
I paused as I thought on her statement. In a way, I was. I was slowly settling into a place I’d considered home for years. I was beginning to dig through my grandmother’s room, and with her articles of clothing came memories of us sitting on the porch and talking. I wanted to put up another porch swing like we had before I’d broken it as a kid. And put a couple of rocking chairs on the porch so I could go out there with coffee and watch the nighttime set over the forest.
“I guess it does, huh?” I asked.
“I’ll support you in whatever you decide,” Sarah said. “As long as you have a room for me to come visit. Because I can’t live too much longer without my Amanda.”
“You’ll always be welcome here,” I said. “My grandmother would’ve loved you.”
I felt tears rising in my eyes as I thought about my grandmother meeting my best friend.
“Anyway,” I said. “I should get cleaned up. The contractor will be here in a couple of hours, and I should at least put on a bra.”
“Might be a good idea,” Sarah said, giggling. “Call me right after.”
“Will do,” I said. “Talk to you soon.”
CHAPTER 8
Brian
Lanie was beginning her breakfast when a knock came at the door. I felt the skin prickling the back of my neck as Tanya reached for the handle, but I held my hand out to her. There was something in the air I didn’t like. A twinge of electricity that alerted me to something dangerous.
Tanya saw the look in my eye, and she quickly scooped up Lanie in her arms.
“What’s wrong?” Lanie asked.
“Let’s give your uncle some time alone,” Tanya said. “We’ll eat breakfast in a few minutes.”
I waited until Tanya shut the door to Lanie’s room before I slowly opened the front door.
Now, I was face to face with the man that was battling for custody of Lanie. The man who had not given one shit about the little girl until there was money to be made off of her.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.
“You’re a hard man to track down, Brian,” he said.
I had half a mind to grab him by his throat and pick him up off his feet.
“I’ll ask you again. Why the hell are you standing on my porch?”
His eyes were darting around my body, no doubt trying to get a look into my home I had been talking with lawyers. I knew how this was going to go down. He was going to try and paint me to be an unfit guardian for Lanie because I was reclusive. Hard to track down, inn an area that didn’t support the development of a child. Now, he was here trying to snoop around. Maybe paint my home as dirty or unkempt. Or possibly paint me as hostile.
I had to keep my roiling anger under control. It would cost me Lanie if I didn’t.
“I wanted to let you know in person that I have the upper hand in this court case.”
“You tracked me down to tell me that?” I asked. “Do I strike you as an idiot?”
“I have rights to her, you know. I’m her fucking father.”
He spat that last word at me before he stumbled and that was when the smell of alcohol hit my nose. He reeked of booze, and his eyes were bloodshot. He was standing in front of me with yellowing teeth and fungus-filled nails in a suit that was a size too big for him.
“Your name isn’t on that birth certificate,” I said. “Which means you have no legal rights to Lanie.”
“A paternity test’ll fix that right up,” he said, snarling.
“No, it won’t. It proves paternity, but doesn’t establish anyone to be a fit parent.”
“You’re not a fit parent!” the man roared. “You’re a reclusive bum of a man who keeps my daughter cooped up in this cabin in the woods.”
His hands were shaking, and he was beginning to fidget on my porch. I didn’t know what drugs he had coursing through his system, but I knew he wasn’t stable. I had no fucking clue what my sister had seen at some point in the past in this pathetic asshole, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to hand my beautiful niece over to him.