Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Because I like it here,” he says simply and turns back to the book.
I look over at Stella, who just winks at me and fills a measuring cup with pancake mix.
Miraculously, Willie and I get a lot finished by the time the bacon is done sizzling, and Stella has everything set out buffet-style on the island.
“Okay, guys, let’s eat.”
“Thank God, the smell of that food is killing me,” Willie says as he closes his book and walks over to grab a plate.
“Where did you find this?” I ask, pointing to the tall cake plate with a glass dome, currently housing the pancakes.
“Uh, in the cupboard above your fridge,” Stella says and pops a bite of bacon into her mouth.
“I’ve never seen that before in my life.”
“Maybe the last people who lived here left it?” she suggests. “It was pretty dirty. Had to wash it.”
“This looks nice,” Willie says, taking in the spread before him. “Like, not just delicious, but kind of pretty, too.”
“Thanks,” Stella says with a bright smile. “I’m an interior designer, so I kind of get a kick out of making things look fancy. Even breakfast, I guess.”
We pile our plates with food that smells like heaven and sit at the kitchen table to eat.
“I don’t think I’ve ever used this table for eating a meal,” I say with surprise as I chew my bacon contemplatively.
“Never?” Stella asks in surprise. “It’s a beautiful table.”
“He’s never home,” Willie says between bites of pancake. “He’s a workaholic. He eats with Grams and me a lot. Or orders pizza.”
“Sometimes, both at the same time,” I add with a smile. “Betty loves pineapple on her pizza.”
Willie winces. “No one should add fruit to pizza. It should be a law or something.”
Stella and I laugh as my phone rings, and I frown at the readout.
“It’s my dad,” I say as I accept the call. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Gray. I’m just calling to let you know that I’m following the ambulance to the hospital. Your mom took a fall a little while ago, and they think she may have broken her hip. She’ll be fine, but I wanted you to know.”
My stomach drops. “I’m on my way.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dad says immediately. “She’s fine, Gray. But anything that requires an ambulance should also require a phone call to her children.”
“This is the fifth time in two months that Mom has needed a trip to the hospital,” I remind him as I stand and pace to the living room. “I’m going over there to put my own eyes on her. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I know that tone. I won’t be able to talk you out of this. So, just be safe.”
I end the call and turn to find both Stella and Willie watching me with wide eyes.
“It looks like I’m going home to Idaho today. Shit, I need to arrange for a flight and call Bill—”
“Go call Bill. I’ve got the travel arrangements under control,” Stella assures me, and when I just stare at her, she shoos me with her hand. “Go. I’ve got this.”
“I’ll clean up from breakfast,” Willie announces and starts carrying our empty plates into the kitchen.
I hurry into my bedroom, pull out a small suitcase, and start shoving clothes into it as I dial Bill’s number.
“You really need to take weekends off,” Bill says in greeting.
“I am, actually. But I just got some bad news from my dad. I need to go home to Idaho. Bill, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
“Go. Everything can be rescheduled. Go take care of your family. I’ll handle the office.”
I sigh in relief. “Thanks. I owe you.”
“Just keep me posted. Good luck.”
I click off and turn when Stella walks into the bedroom, her phone in her hand.
“Okay, I have this handled. You need to be at the airport as soon as possible. A plane is waiting for you and will have you in Coeur d'Alene in an hour.”
I simply stare at her. “What? How?”
“My uncle is Luke Williams.” She simply shrugs. “It’s no big deal.”
“Stella—”
“You need to get to your mom,” she interrupts. “We’re going to get you there as soon as possible. Now, what else do you need? Bathroom stuff?”
She’s all business now as she marches into the bathroom and gathers my shampoo and the few other things I might need, and I’m completely stunned.
She’s arranged for a private plane to get me to my mother.
I knew she was amazing, but Jesus. She’s…incredible.
“Where do I go at the airport?” I ask as I toss a few last-minute things into the bag and zip it shut. “I’ve never flown on a private plane before.”
“I’m taking you, so I’ll show you,” she says. “Of course, I don’t have my car, so I’ll have to drive yours.”
“Done.” I lead the way out of the bedroom and see that Willie is just drying the glass dome of the cake plate.