Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Delia shivered. “That’s what Uncle Troy says.”
“I’ve always found Troy to be a very smart man.”
She nodded and then tipped her head, looking at me. “Yeah, agreed, but can I change the subject for a second and ask you what was up with that hat?”
“Hat?”
“Yeah. That day Aunt Rita took me to your house to bring you honey and we took home all those herbs and vegetables, you were outside in that weird hat.” When I gasped, Delia chuckled, and so did Cass, which was a really good sound from both of them. “C’mon,” she teased me, “you know it’s insane.”
“I’ll have you know that’s my gardening hat,” I said, trying for affronted.
“It’s huge.” Delia was still laughing. “You could block out the sun with that thing.”
Which was very much the point. “When you came over that day, you really liked my cat, Argos,” I reminded her.
“Oh yeah. He’s a sweetie. Since he’s a black cat, I hope you kept him in before Halloween and after.”
Anyone stupid enough to try and hurt him would be treated to him turning into his true form and devouring them. That was one black cat she didn’t have to worry about. “I assure you he’s quite safe.”
“Good. I’m glad.”
“Your aunt and uncle are lovely people, but I’m sure you know that.”
“They are,” she replied with a nod.
I had known the Johnsons for many years. Their apiary supplied the honey for the entire town and beyond, as they sold it online as well. Their booth at the harvest festival was always busy.
“It’s just…” Delia seemed to hesitate. “They’re different from my parents, and they don’t talk much.”
“Really?”
“You think they talk a lot?”
“Not a lot, more like the perfect amount. I love spending time with both of them.”
She nodded like she agreed, but perhaps she hadn’t yet taken the time to really get to know them. It had to be hard for them as well as her.
“You know, if you want to get Troy talking, he likes anything sci-fi, and he’s a metallurgist and makes swords. He ships them all over the world.”
“He does?” Cass was surprised, and she looked at her friend. “Did you know that?”
Delia looked stunned. “No. I get home and go to my room. I know about the honey, but I had no idea what he does in his workshop.”
“You should ask him if you can check it out, because his stuff is awesome.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I will.”
“And Rita likes cooking and manga and, of course, bees. But she makes jewelry as well, and she sells it online. She’s shown me some of the pieces and—wait, look,” I said, reaching under the collar of my crew-neck sweater and fishing out the silver cimaruta, the amulet I wore on a braided silver chain.
“She made that?”
“She did,” I replied with a smile, pleased to be giving her more insight into the people who loved her and had taken her in.
“That’s really pretty,” Cass commented, looking at Delia.
“I didn’t know,” she said, her voice sounding hollow.
“Yeah, but you’ve been grieving,” I said gently. “You probably don’t talk to them much, and like you said, you’re in your room a lot.”
“It’s true. I haven’t been talking to anyone but Cass.”
“And it’s great you have her, but Troy and Rita are pretty great too. I think you’d enjoy getting to know them better. The stuff they do in addition to the apiary is very cool. You only have to talk to people to find out something interesting.”
“It’s not always interesting,” Cass assured me.
“No?”
She made a face. “Have you met my uncle?”
“I have, yes.”
“Yeah. Did you find him interesting or, I dunno, pleasant even?”
“Cass,” Delia scolded her.
“Oh, come on. Do you like him?”
Delia bit her bottom lip. “I think maybe he’s got a lot on his mind.”
“Which is her saying he’s a grouch,” Cass translated.
“I think he does have a lot on his mind,” I defended the chief, agreeing with Delia. “But I also agree he’s a buzzkill.”
“Oh, thank God someone gets it,” Cass grumbled.
“But,” I began, grinning at her, and she groaned, “I’m sure he likes you—you’re related to him, after all—but he most certainly doesn’t like me.”
Her breath caught. “He doesn’t like you either?”
“Again,” I said with a smile, “I’m sure he adores you.”
The headshake was adamant. “No. He’s mean all the time. I don’t think he knows how to smile or be in a good mood, and sometimes you just need a hug, you know?”
I needed to point out the obvious. “Don’t you have your father for that?”
She glanced away, and Delia grimaced.
“Cass?” I prodded, because I always pushed. It’s what I did.
“My dad, he’s…sort of checked out since my mom died.”
“I see.”
“It was really bad before Uncle Lorne came over to our house. Everyone was worried—family on my mom’s side, my grandparents, my other uncle and aunts—but Uncle Lorne, he was the only one who came in and got my dad out of bed and put him in the shower.”