Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” I replied. “Are you sure?”
“I think they’d be offended if Ariel and Diana called them anything else,” he said as he led us out to the car. “Come on, Esther and Flora are already loaded up.”
“I’m sorry you can’t ride with us.” Esther’s car only fit five people and the car seats barely fit.
“Don’t mind,” he replied, opening the back door so I could put Diana in. “Come on, Ariel, I’ll buckle you in.”
“You look pretty,” Esther said from the driver’s seat as I buckled the baby in. “That dress looks better on you.”
“I doubt it.”
“No really,” she insisted.
“I’m just glad you still wear dresses,” I joked, shutting Diana’s door.
By the time I’d made my way around to my seat, Otto was on his motorcycle, waiting to follow us.
“I have a pair of overalls,” Esther whispered as soon as I’d climbed into my seat. She grinned mischievously. “I’m still not comfortable in jeans.”
“Then I’m guessing leggings are out, too?”
Esther cackled. “No way. I don’t want anyone looking at my butt!”
“I want some leggings,” I countered, leaning back in my seat as we pulled out onto the road. “And sweatpants!”
“I wear sweatpants around the house.” She shrugged.
“Is it weird?” We hadn’t really talked about how different her life was now. I guess my life was different, too, but I hadn’t really felt the effects of it yet. “You know, wearing whatever you want. Cutting your hair short.” I gestured toward her hair.
“This isn’t that short,” she replied dryly. “But I am glad that I can wear it down. Pulling it back all the time was giving me terrible headaches.”
I found my hand smoothing my hair back self-consciously.
“It looks fine,” she told me, like she could read my mind. “And I still wear mine up sometimes—old habits die hard. But yeah, I don’t think it’s weird so much as… a relief. You know? Not having all of those arbitrary rules. Who cares how we wear our hair or if we want to put makeup on? Who cares if someone sees our elbows? I’ve been with Otto for more than six years, and I’ll let you in on a little secret. I don’t think my bare elbows are giving him lustful thoughts.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I joked. “You’ve got some nice elbows.”
Esther snickered.
“I think the best part is just—I don’t have to worry about every little thing. I can wear whatever I’m comfortable in. I can make any facial expression I want. I can say whatever I want. I mean, I wouldn’t want to hurt someone’s feelings, obviously, but when I’m mad at Otto he wants me to say something. He wants me to argue. He says how would I ever know that you need somethin’ different from me if you don’t fuckin’ say it?”
“You swear now,” I murmured. That may have been the strangest part of Esther’s transformation.
“Rarely,” she replied with a shrug. “Otto’s family swears all the time though and it rubs off on you.”
“It was nice of Heather to set up this family dinner,” I said, glancing back at the girls. All of them were still facing backward, but Otto had set up a little row of mirrors so we could see them from the front seat.
“Are you nervous?”
“No.”
“Liar.” Esther smiled. “He’ll be there.”
“Who?”
“Oh, please,” she snorted. “Titus. You know, your little partner in crime.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“He’s single, you know.”
“No,” I replied stiffly. “I didn’t know that.”
“He’s never really had a girlfriend,” she continued, ignoring my tone entirely. “I mean, I know he’s gone out with women and stuff, but no one seriously enough that we ever met them.”
“He’s still young,” I replied nonchalantly, like I didn’t care one way or another.
I shouldn’t care. What Titus did had nothing to do with me. Yes, he’d been the center of my world for the few months when we’d snuck around, but that was years ago. A lot had happened since then. Too much had happened. The life that we’d planned out on the floor of the local library was gone. A figment of two very active imaginations. It wasn’t even fair of me to think of him the way I did, or remember the things I that refused to forget.
“Maybe he’s just been waiting around for the right person,” Esther mused as we pulled into Heather and Tommy’s driveway.
“I hope he finds her,” I replied, putting an end to the conversation. “He’s a good guy.”
“The best,” she agreed quietly.
The next few minutes were chaotic as we got the girls out of their seats, and the few minutes after that weren’t any better as we joined the madhouse inside. Kids ran through the house and out the back door as their parents helped get food and drinks ready. Without pausing what she was doing, Heather ordered me and Esther to bring a couple of platters of vegetables outside to the picnic tables in the back yard.