Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Oh, my God, I might faint when I look directly into those blue eyes of his, so instead I concentrate on the flowers, sniffing them. They are wildflowers. Small, but colorful. And they are wrapped in a light green satin ribbon that matches my toe polish.
I look up at Amon once again, blinking a little, flattered and feeling a little gushy that he actually picked flowers for me. But it’s not surprising, really. Because Amon Parrish is a fuckin’ romantic and he’s not shy about pulling out all the stops.
Cross grabs the bag of food and peeks inside. Then he turns and scoots past me, back into the house, muttering, “Yum. Burgers and chicken. I’m hungry.” Like this isn’t a big deal. Like Amon Parrish brings us dinner every night of the week.
Amon and I both ignore Cross as we gaze into each other’s eyes. He speaks first. “You look real nice tonight, Rosie.”
“Thank you. And thanks for the flowers, I love them. Come on in.” I slip past the screen door and hold it open for him as he comes up behind me. And just the mere presence of his body so close to mine is enough to make me wish that Cross wasn’t here right now. Because I am getting hungry for something all right, but it’s not food.
It’s this man.
When I enter Rosie’s house something inside me flips. It’s a flip I felt coming since the very first day I came back to Disciple and saw her in the Rise and Shine coffee shop. It’s a sense of being home.
A similar flip was felt when I met up with my parents and my sisters, but there was no accompanying longing.
This time, here with Rosie and her boy, I feel a longing.
“Come on in, Amon,” Cross tells me. He’s in the kitchen, on the other side of the counter, his plate already full of fried chicken and a burger. I was a growing boy myself at one point and my most prominent memory of being twelve was the hunger. Not like I was starving or anything, but I felt like I was fuckin’ starving. All I wanted was food.
And Cross is no different than any other boy that age. He’s stuffin’ his face right there at the counter.
Rosie admonishes him. “My God, Cross. You’re sending neglect messages the way you’re eating. Sit your butt down at the table!”
Cross shrugs like he can’t help himself, then walks over to the far side of the kitchen where a mid-century modern dining table is waiting. This is when I remember that Rosie’s house is Lowyn’s house, and Rosie moved in after Lowyn moved out to be with Collin at the compound. So this whole place is a like an advertisement for McBooms.
Which fits. Because Rosie Harlow dresses like she was born in the wrong century. Her outfit tonight is retro-reminiscent. Cut-off denim shorts and a light green crocheted halter top that could come off as slutty, but doesn’t because Rosie Harlow isn’t slutty, she’s… cute. And in my opinion, you can be cute or slutty, but you actually can’t be both.
“Here you go, Amon.” Rosie hands me a plate and I take it, nodding at her like a gentleman to help herself to a burger and fried chicken. This makes her blush a little. But she grabs her food and a drink and takes it all over to the table.
I get mine as well, then join them.
It should feel a little bit weird because I’ve never dated a woman with a child, let alone had dinner with them, but there is nothing weird about this moment when I finally look across the table, right into Rosie’s gray eyes. Everything about it feels like… providence. “Like an echo on the water.”
“What?” Rosie, who is still looking me in the eyes, is confused.
“The call to Revival.”
“What about it?” Cross says, his mouth full of food.
I’m still looking at Rosie. “The echo is the past and the water is the future. That’s how I always thought of it. Which means it’s not a passing, or a coming, but an arrival. ‘Let it be a sign,’” I say, reciting the words from memory. But not in a preacher way, just a matter-of-fact way. “‘A sign that the righteous will find comfort in the brave. And the danger will exist only in the damaged. Because when you give yourself to something higher, you will feel the relief that comes with the emptiness of anger and you will know, in your heart, that the blessing of grace is now upon you.’”
“Amen!” Cross bellows, then burps, laughing.
Rosie and I also laugh. And she just shakes her head. “Don’t go reciting no holy words to me now, Amon. You might just make me blush.”
“Oh, my God, Mom. Don’t be gross. Your child is sitting at the table.” Cross takes a breath from his eating and looks at me. “Can I come work for you?”