Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
A few seconds ticked by. “Veronica, it’s none of my business, but . . .”
“You can ask.”
“It’s just that you seem very independent too. How did he gain that kind of control over you?”
“I’ve asked myself the same thing many times,” I said with a sigh. “And the truth is, it was little by little. Almost like I didn’t notice it was happening until it was too late. Neil had this way of making it all seem like ‘taking care of me.’” I made air quotes with my fingers. “And I’d promised my mother I’d try to let him.”
“Your mom liked him?”
I shrugged. “She didn’t know him, not the way I did. Honestly, I didn’t know the real him back then either. We dated long-distance—I was in New York, and he was in Chicago. But he was in Manhattan a lot for business. And in all his big talk and promises, she saw a life for me that looked like a fairy tale.”
“And you wanted that life?”
“I thought I did,” I said honestly. “But—”
“Okay, we’re ready!” Adelaide burst into the kitchen, Owen right behind her. “Can we go now?”
“Yes.” Austin grabbed his keys from a hook next to the back door. “I’ll load your bags in the car, Veronica.”
“Thanks,” I said, watching him leave. A hollow pit had formed in my stomach, and I realized it was because I hadn’t gotten to finish what I was saying—that while I thought I’d wanted that life, it was no fairy tale. It hadn’t dulled the pain of missing my mom, of not having her unconditional love in my life, the only one I’d ever known.
My father had abandoned me before I was born. My grandparents didn’t want me. And no man I’d ever dated had inspired the kind of trust necessary for a healthy relationship. When I lost my mom, I’d been completely untethered, adrift in cold, lonely waters. Neil had at least been a buoy in the storm. But he hadn’t loved me. His family hadn’t accepted me. I hadn’t belonged.
Then again, I thought as I followed the kids out the door, pulling it shut behind me, maybe it was better I hadn’t spilled my guts like that.
Austin didn’t like a mess.
NINE
austin
When we walked into Moe’s, Veronica was greeted like a celebrity.
Gus, my dad’s old friend, and grumpy Larry, who owned the barber shop, were on their way out, and we crossed paths just inside the door.
“Veronica!” Gus exclaimed with a grin on his face. “You’re back!”
“I’m back. Hi, Gus.” Then she smiled at the usually cantankerous barber. “Hi, Larry.”
The old curmudgeon actually blushed. “Hi, Veronica.”
“Hey!” Ari, who’d been pouring coffee for someone at the counter, set down her pot and came running over to envelop her in a hug, like they were long-lost friends. “You’re still here!”
“I’m still here,” Veronica said with a laugh. “For the moment.”
“I’m so glad it worked out with the job.” Ari smiled from me to the kids to Veronica again.
“Oh.” Veronica’s cheeks went pink. “Actually, I’m not staying in town.”
“We just came in for breakfast,” I said, feeling like an asshole again for not hiring her.
“But what about the job?” Gus persisted.
Veronica glanced at me. “It didn’t work out.”
“You didn’t hire her?” Larry turned to me, his face arranged in its usual get-off-my-lawn expression. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.” I looked past him to Ari. “Can we get a table please?”
“Sure thing, Austin. Right this way.”
We followed her to the back of the diner and slid into opposite sides of an empty booth. Owen got in next to Veronica, and Adelaide pouted. “I want to sit by Veronica!”
Her brother shrugged. “I got here first.”
“Because you pushed me out of the way. Dad, Owen pushed me.”
“Enough.” I looked at my daughter. “Now sit down.”
“Fine.” Looking mad about it, Adelaide flopped into the booth and crossed her arms, like sitting next to me was a punishment.
“Maybe you could take turns,” Veronica suggested. “Owen can sit on this side while we wait, and then you can switch when the food comes? Like musical chairs.”
The twins looked at each other and nodded. “Okay,” Owen said. “Dad, can we have some money for the jukebox?”
“What was the point of the argument about where you’re sitting if you’re just getting up to leave?” I griped, but I reached into my jeans pocket and pulled out a handful of quarters. “And what do you want to eat?”
“Chocolate chip pancakes,” said Owen, sliding out of the booth.
“French toast.” Adelaide took the quarters from me and followed her brother to the corner of the diner where the jukebox sat.
“Now they’ll argue about which songs to play,” I said moodily. “And who gets to choose the first one.”
Veronica laughed. “I hope you gave them an even number of quarters.”
Ari approached with menus and a coffee pot. “Coffee, you two?”