Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Calm your tits, first and foremost. Pour yourself a glass of wine or give yourself an orgasm, stat. The last thing anyone needs is for you to have a coronary. Then, after you do a deep breathing session with your toy or guzzle the wine I know my brother stocked you up on, go to him. The only person who can answer your questions is across the street.”
“Why are you always right? An orgasm isn’t necessary, by the way.” Laughter bubbles out of me, trying to get a rise out of Ophelia.
“Ugh, you’re so gross. I do not want details, Rosaleigh!”
“Fine, I won’t. Do you want to tell me why you’re miserable out in California yet aren’t willing to come home?” I can hear the weariness in her voice. This isn’t the first time we’ve spoken this week. Earlier, it was me staying up till one o’clock in the morning to answer her call. Fif was spitting mad, cussing her boss up a storm while I listened, having no idea what happened, only that he was a conniving asshole who thinks he farts unicorns.
“The money. If it weren’t for the money, I’d be home in Abalee. Two more years, max. If not, I’ll call it quits and beg for help. I was so stupid, following a boy out here, getting into debt by transferring from one school to the next. I love what I do; I do not love the hefty student loan debt or the ridiculous amount of rent I’m paying.” She stayed home until Emmy was born, then it was time for my best friend to spread her wings, though California wasn’t where I thought she’d land.
“I know the money isn’t as good back here. The option is always open for you to move in with me. Rent would be cheap, and you could probably be out of debt sooner.” I’d offer her some of the cash I put away for the probability of a divorce attorney, but I know she wouldn’t take it, and the need to disassociate from David is real.
“It’s dumb, I know. Also, speaking of, Rory called. I’m not sure if she’s told you, but that stupid boy Tyler—obviously, don’t tell her I told you this—anyways, they were in that proverbial talking stage teenage kids think is so fun these days. He asked her to send a nude. Our girl is obviously too smart for that, so she blocked him on everything—social media, texts, and calls. It still fucked with her head. Nix doesn’t know, and I’d suggest not telling him, or you might need bail money.”
“Nix won’t need bail money. I will. That little cocksucker. Jesus, Fif, she didn’t even talk to me about this. I mean, I’m glad she talked to you, but damn if that doesn’t make me worry that she’s not talking about other things, keeping more and more in.” I hit my forehead on my knees, upset with myself, pissed at that fuckwad of a kid. Mostly, I’m upset with myself, though.
“Eh, it takes a village. Rory’s got a good head on her shoulders. Maybe hang with her for a bit tomorrow. Guaranteed she’ll open up, even if it’s while you attempt to cook some sort of unburnt dinner.” She’s not wrong. Usually, we’d have the weekend to hang out. Rory going to a friend’s house last night made things a bit difficult. I’ll be home all day tomorrow. That means the girls will get a ride to school, I’ll pick them up after, and do the same routine for sports. A lot of opportunities to have some girl time while we wait for Emmy to get out of school.
“You’re right, on everything, like usual. Have I mentioned nobody likes a know-it-all?”
“Maybe once or twice. Now, go get your man before it gets too late. Also, I’m going to make the biggest bowl of cereal, shower, then conk out.” Ophelia yawns. Whenever you think you have it rough, someone else has it worse. At least here in Abalee, I’m surrounding by people who love me and the girls. She’s in California by herself without her family.
“Fruit Loops, I hope. I love you. Thank you for listening to me ramble,” I tell her while trying to come up with a game plan if the divorce attorney doesn’t take me for a ride.
“Always and forever. I love you, and I’m always here.” We hang up. I head to my closet, already in my short and tank pajama set, this one not as old and threadbare as last night’s version, grab my robe that’s bright and cheerful, and do what my best friend suggests. It’s now Operation Talk to Nix.
18
ROSALEIGH
If Ophelia could see me now, she probably would have told me to at least make myself more presentable. My once messy bun that was on top of my head is falling out, lopsided, I’m sure. The robe I grabbed is a few years old, practically threadbare for how much I use it, since it’s well-loved, well-used, and a splurge that I know Rory and Emmy saved up to have Fif give me for my birthday one year. The flowers are vibrant, the material is luxurious, and even when it becomes holey, I still won’t give it up. It’s the shoes that are currently on my feet that have me questioning what the hell I’m doing over here without looking in a mirror. I mean, the outfit is what it is, but the rainbow-colored rubber shoes that have all kinds of charm, like things pressed into the top of the holes. Why Rory and Emmy insist on these ugly, colossal clog-like shoes, I’ll never know.