Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“And why would you?” I ask in an equally soft voice. “Maybe I’m crazy, but I’m guessing you didn’t have much practice with healthy conflict resolution growing up.”
“You’re not crazy.” Her lids droop, as if just thinking about the past makes her tired. “My mom doesn’t do conflict at all. And Dad… Well, you saw Dad. He’s always right. Always.” She exhales a rueful laugh as her eyes close and her head falls back to rest against the tree. “And I mean, in this case, he is literally right about reading the contract more carefully. I made a serious mistake, but that doesn’t mean my business was a failure. I was doing really well.”
“You were. I’m sorry he can’t see that and be proud of you.”
“Yeah, me, too.” She inhales, keeping her eyes closed as she adds, “But I can’t have any more feelings today. I’ve already had too many. Gotta turn them off for a while. If I keep going, I’ll get a rash.”
“Understood.” And I do understand, but it also makes me sad.
I wish she didn’t have to turn her feelings off. I wish her dad and the insurance company hadn’t hammered her even further into the pain pit when she was already at rock bottom.
I wish she’d let me fuck her until she’s happy again.
Or at least give her really excellent oral or a massage or pull her onto my lap and cuddle her until she doesn’t feel so alone in the world.
Or, I don’t know…fly her to Aruba or something. It’s easier to forget about your problems for a while when they’re not staring you in the face every day.
“Why not?” I mutter, brilliance bubbling in my brain.
Mack cracks her lids. “Why not what?”
“Why not get the fuck out of town for a while? I mean, I have ten days off before summer conditioning starts, and I won’t be able to do much except physical therapy anyway. And I can do my exercises on the road. Blue’s going to Nepal. We’re practically obligated to go somewhere half as cool.”
Her smile is weak and a little embarrassed. “Except that I don’t have any money, Parker.”
“Fuck it, I’ll cover it. It’s no problem.”
“It’s a problem for me,” she says. “You’re already letting me stay with you for free and bought me a ridiculous number of clothes. Not to mention food and—”
“Shut up,” I cut in, softening the words by leaning forward to wrap my hand around her bare ankle. “Seriously, just stop. I’m letting you stay with me because it’s the decent thing to do, and because I enjoy your company. And aren’t you the woman who tried to drop two hundred dollars on food and toys for a family you’d never met last night?”
“But you insisted on paying the bill,” she says, still looking uncomfortable. “And that was before I knew I was super poor, not ordinary poor.”
“Well, I’m not poor. And that’s not because I’ve worked harder than other people or am morally superior or some shit. It’s because I got lucky.”
“You worked hard,” she insists. “Really hard.”
“Okay, fine, but luck was also involved. From good genes to my parents having the cash for me to play an expensive sport to the fact that pro hockey players get paid a stupid amount of money.” I give her ankle another squeeze. “So, let me spend some of that stupid money on a trip for us, huh? It would be good for me to get out of town for a while, too.”
“If I’m no longer a business owner, I should probably start looking for a job,” she says. But she’s weakening, I can tell. “You know, pounding the pavement. Getting resumes in front of eyeballs. All that jazz.”
“Half the pavement is still covered in mud from the flood, the eyeballs are tired, and the jazz will still be here when we get back. And maybe by then, you’ll have heard back on your appeal to Gerald’s boss, and you’ll be able to reopen, after all. Then, we’ll swing by the Pelican State Insurance office, tell Gerald to eat a bag of dicks, and celebrate with gumbo at Betty’s Diner on the way out of town.”
She grins. “I prefer the shrimp and grits at Betty’s, but the first part of that sounds pretty good. I’d really like to tell Gerald to eat a bag of dicks.”
“We could go right now,” I say, nodding over my shoulder. “It’s never too early to tell someone to eat a bag of dicks, and the office is on the way back to the truck.”
She shakes her head with a laugh. “Nah. That would require more feelings. Anger is a feeling, and I told you. No more feelings today.” She casts a sideways glance my way, silently asking if I’m picking up what she’s putting down.