Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71246 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“Lex, I like you. You’re honest, and honesty is always a good trait to have. So, I’m going to give you the same courtesy. Most of those things you’ve read about my family are probably true, but there is always more to the story. Nothing in this world is black and white. Good and evil. There is no either-or. No line for people to stand on. There is goodness in the worst of us and bad intentions, even in the nicest people. The only difference between other people and me is that I recognize I’m both–black and white, good and evil. I love my family, my wife and kids. I would die for them, but I would also kill for them, and after, I’d come home, wash the blood off my hands and kiss them goodnight.”
For a moment, I just stare at him, letting his words soak in like rain into the ground. I would die and kill for the people I love, and I know what blood feels like on my hands.
It makes me think, are we really that different?
16
Jude
Every few minutes, my heart pitter-pats. Realizing today is his family dinner day. The official thing.
Fort builders. A Dean. Pops. The family who had a mom that laughed and held them on her lap before one day leaving them behind.
All. The. Things.
I shake my head, trying to dash away the hype I’m piling on.
These are just people, Jude. They eat with forks and put their pants on one leg at a time just like anyone else.
It does not work. Even when I’m not thinking about it, seconds later, I’m crashing against that same emotional inundation all over again.
By the time the getting ready hour rolls around, I’m a tangled mess. I make valiant attempts at convincing myself I should not care, and keep failing, miserably.
How do I not care? I have their blood in me, a baby growing in my belly. A relation to them all! No matter if they like me or I like them, nothing will change the fact that I will be meeting my baby’s family for the first time today, all at once. His or her grandfather. Nieces. Uncles. Aunts. All the family!
Even if I never date Lex romantically or ever see him again for that matter, nothing changes that fact! He and I will still have a child together. He and I will always be connected in some way through this experience. Even if–god forbid–something horrible happens, and I’m not able to bring the baby to term, I will still be a woman who carried his child in me. We will always be joined in this way.
Now the question is, will Lex’s family accept me as I am? Accept me into their fold and treat me as one of their own?
I rummage through my bag for the third time. I only have one dress with me, but, for some strange reason, I act as if there are more or better options to consider because I look again and again.
This dress is really the only option. Leaving my parents behind meant leaving the life they offered, too. No turtlenecks, no hair handkerchiefs, no denim floor-length skirts. And definitely, no more clogs!
It had taken me a few weeks to discover that the college had a clothes closet for the public, which I ended up volunteering in for two weeks before I found a job, luckily, I got the pick of what was available while I was there. Mostly, discarded items from college students, but better than anything I had, that was for sure. What I didn’t find there–like my first-ever brightly colored underwear, and shoes that fit–I bought with my first paycheck.
I was so proud of the day that I no longer owned one stitch of clothing or anything else from that life.
This butter-yellow dress with tiny cornfield blue flowers is the favorite thing I own and the only item I consider special. It is simple and modest, but beautifully so. It has a boatneck top, three-quarter-length sleeves, and falls to just above my knees with a bit of a flair after it cinches loosely beneath my breasts.
Breasts that are getting slightly fuller and more tender by the day.
I have no jewelry, no accessories, no fancy anything. And no makeup. Just the dress and some sandals. That has to be enough. Just me.
I decide to pluck a few white hepatica blooms from the wildflowers in the yard and tuck them into my hair, it’s secured up and away from my face. They are the perfect complement. I stare for a brief moment at my reflection in the mirror and shrug. This will have to do.
When I exit the bedroom and walk down the hall to the living room, it occurs to me that this is the first ever family dinner I have been to. Before, I never had anything but church dinners. Dinners where I was always seated at the children’s table because I was not yet married.