Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
"Mommy is going to read that with you this weekend," I explain for a second time as she clutches the book to her chest when it’s time to get out of the car. “Larkin, please.”
She allows me to pull the book from her chest, but her eyes are locked on it the entire time I unbuckle her.
“There’s my sweet girl!” Nora exclaims from the front porch.
With the book forgotten, Larkin wiggles to get out of my arms.
Nora stands like a statue, her body blocking entry to the house.
"She's had a few sniffles," I tell Nora as I attempt to hand her Larkin's bag.
"She's already in pajamas?" the woman asks when Larkin runs past her into the house.
"It's almost time for bed," I say, giving her a smile I know the woman can tell doesn't reach my eyes.
I wonder if Adalynn and Sage both had opinions about how Larkin was dressed at the bookstore, but I didn't catch a single hint of judgment in their tones or on their faces. I think they're genuinely nice women, and coming from speaking with them to standing in front of Bitter Betty here, it makes it that much more obvious.
She has perfected the fake smile full of ire and distaste, after all.
"She'll need a bath."
"She had her bath," I explain.
The long sigh of frustration is almost too loud to ignore, but somehow I manage.
"Does she have a change of clothes in the bag?" Nora asks, looking down at the thing as if it carries some sort of disease.
I've used the same bag for Larkin for years, and although worn in a few spots, I keep the thing clean. It goes in the wash just like her stuffed toys and pillows do. We don't live in filth. We just don't have as many material things as a lot of others have. Living a minimalist lifestyle is chic and fashionable unless you're poor, and then people just see it as sad. It's the same as having a nanny versus needing a babysitter. One is classy and the other is trashy, at least in Nora’s eyes.
"For tomorrow, yes," I tell her, knowing she's asking if there's another set of pajamas in there because she has every intention of giving Larkin another bath.
"Claire," she says. "You know I have more clothes for her inside, but why are you always so difficult? If you prioritized, you'd—"
"I'll be here to pick her up tomorrow evening after work," I say instead of explaining exactly why I have to work two jobs. I know the reasoning would somehow once again be turned around on me.
Huxley Kennedy has been enshrined in this town. He did no wrong. He wasn't a young man who always got into trouble. He was mischievous. He wasn't destined for his parents' basement because he had no goals in life. He was evaluating his options.
That's the thing about someone dying. Most people ignore who they really were in life in favor of rose-colored glasses.
I'm not speaking ill of my deceased husband, but the facts didn't change the day he went to work and didn't come home.
He had his faults like every other person walking the earth, but no one would ever be able to convince the Kennedys of it. Hell, a lot of his problems were created by them, and that's something they'd never admit.
"Claire," Nora says in that frustrated, annoyed tone. "You wouldn't have to work two jobs if you took the offer of our garage apartment."
I simply wave my arm in the air and climb into my car.
I know I'd have to work a million-and-a-half shifts at The Hairy Frog before I'd clear that stack of bills off my dresser, but at the same time, I can't give up. I also can't give in any more than I already have to the Kennedys. I'm so very grateful to have their help. I know they love Larkin, and that is the only saving grace for dropping my daughter off at their house up to six days a week.
Living right under their noses? I'd never hear the end of it. I'd be miserable, and they'd be right about me not being able to take care of my daughter on my own.
The bills keep me going. I tried ignoring them and it brought a man to my front doorstep with court papers and a threat of getting sued on his lips. It terrified me that going to court over credit card debt would also mean my parenting would be called into question, and I'd never put Larkin's future at risk like that. It's also why I haven't opened my mouth to the Kennedys. I feel like they'd see it as an opportunity to try and take her from me.
They suggested it more than once, trying to appeal to that part of me that wouldn't want to be a single mother. The one they thought existed.