Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“That makes sense to me,” my aunt murmured.
I nodded. I didn’t care about the party, but I liked the way Hallie’s face lit up as she talked about her work and her ideas.
* * *
“Hey.” I approached Hallie, who stood in the backyard, scribbling on her tablet. We’d been at the house for a few hours. After breakfast, Aunt Richelle took Hallie into her studio, and they were in there longer than I’d expected them to be. When they returned, I took Hallie on a tour of the house and then left her to it because I could tell how distracted she’d grown as ideas started percolating in her head.
Soon I grew impatient for her company again though.
“Hey.” She smiled up at me, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses she’d pulled out from her massive purse. “Bored?”
I shrugged. “Just wondering if you felt like a break. I’m taking Bandit for a walk down the beach.”
“Sure.” She grinned, and I fought the urge to reach out and trace her lower lip with my thumb. “Let me just put this”—she waved her tablet—“back inside.”
“I’ll get Bandit.”
A few minutes later, we walked barefoot down the backyard and onto the beach. As soon as I opened the gate, Bandit took off toward the water. The beach was busier than it was a few weeks ago. Summer approached.
“Your aunt is awesome. I wish I was more like her,” Hallie said.
“In what way?”
“Just some of the things she said while we were in her studio—they tell me she doesn’t care what people think. I want to be more like that. Less of a people pleaser. Richelle seems so free and content. So independent. It’s amazing.”
“Her life isn’t perfect.” I needed to assure Hallie. “The grass isn’t always greener.”
“I get that. But this is a pretty nice life.” She gestured around us.
“It is. And it brings her peace.”
I felt Hallie’s eyes on me as I watched Bandit jump in and out of the waves as we walked along the hard-packed sand of the shore.
“Is she okay? Sorry, you don’t need to answer that. I’m being nosy.”
“No, it’s fine. I . . . I worry about her,” I confessed. “She’s a special person, and she stepped in to be what I needed after I lost my mom. But she’s alone, and I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”
“Why?” Hallie frowned. “She’s talented and beautiful and really down-to-earth. Why would she remain alone?”
“She wants to.” The frustration was evident in my voice. “There was someone. Her college sweetheart. They bought this house together. He died in a motorbike accident fifteen years ago. They’d decided they didn’t want to get married and have kids, but that they were each other’s for life. Then one day he was gone. I was in the academy, but they let me come be with her for a little while. Not long enough. Miguel was already on active duty and couldn’t get back in time. It was not good. Anyway, as far as I’m aware, there’s never been anyone since Akio, and I don’t think there ever will be, and that kills me. I don’t want that for her.”
Tears shone in Hallie’s eyes. “That’s so sad. I’m sorry. I hate that that’s her story.”
“Me too.”
We shared a few minutes of silence listening to the gulls in the sky, to Bandit’s joyous barks, and to the ocean lapping around our ankles.
Then Hallie’s voice cut through it all. “Maybe she’s okay with that though. Your aunt Richelle. Maybe she’s made peace with it. Decided that what she had with him for the time she had was more than what most folks get.”
“Isn’t that something people just say to make themselves feel better about the fact that they’re unhappy?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know what happy is.”
A spike of alarm cut through me. “You’re unhappy?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She assured me. “I think we’re taught to create goals and expect to achieve those goals if we work hard enough. Yet it’s always human nature to want more. To expect more and more and more. And don’t get me wrong, part of being human, part of what makes being a human a joy, is having dreams. Having hope. But I think there’s a fine line between that and the perpetual hunger for more and inevitable dissatisfaction with our lives because of it.”
Engaged, I asked, “Do you think that’s true of everyone though? And shouldn’t we expect to be happy in life?”
“Isn’t happiness subjective? Two hundred years ago, being fed, healthy, warm, and safe would have made an everyday Joe happy.”
“You don’t know that.”
“True. But it’s likely. In some ways, life was less complicated back then. More difficult in a lot of ways, but less complicated.” She shrugged. “I guess, I’m just saying that even with all of my family mess, sometimes I sit back and evaluate the good stuff I do have compared to other people. It’s all about perspective, you know.”