Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Oh, God. Sweetheart, you can’t compare anything to Ford. He’s gorgeous and young. If you let that be your standard, you’ll die an old maid. Comparison is the thief of joy. Don’t do it.”
“I know. I really do. It’s just going to take some time.” I got up and refilled the chip bowl, setting it down on the coffee table in front of Eve. “Mark called me last week.”
“Oh yeah? I liked him. He seemed like a nice guy.”
“He is. We actually talked on the phone for over an hour. He said he’d been going back and forth for two weeks on whether to call or not. But he wanted to check in and see how I liked teaching. It was really good to hear from him. He had some pretty funny stories to share about his first few weeks. He’s teaching in a tough neighborhood in Brooklyn.”
“And…”
“He asked how things were going with Ford and me. I said it had ended. He suggested we get together to catch up soon. But I think he knows things between us are only ever going to be platonic.”
“Why? You should go out with him. Get back out there.”
“Oh my God. The last time you pushed me to go out with someone, I got my heart broken.”
“Yes, but you got yourself back out there. It had been twenty years since you spent time with a man. Actually, you’d never spent time with a man because back then they were just boys. This was just a summer. It will be easier to get back out there this time than it was after a two-decade marriage.”
I wasn’t so sure Eve was right about that. “I’ll think about it.”
She smiled. “That’s my girl.”
***
“Hey, babe.”
Ugh. Does he ever listen to anything I say? I should’ve gone with my first instinct when I’d seen my ex-husband’s name flash on my cell.
“If we’re going to call each other nicknames, I’m going to use the one I favored after you moved out.”
He ignored my comment. “Listen, about the summer place.”
Great. I get to talk to you and be reminded about my summer with Ford all in one conversation. “What about it?”
“The piling fix will cost about thirty grand. But that’s just a Band-Aid. We need all the stilts replaced in the next five to seven years to repair it correctly, and that’s almost twice the price.”
Wonderful. And I’m responsible for half of that, according to our divorce settlement. “I don’t have that kind of money. You know I just went back to work.”
“Yeah. I don’t have it either. That’s why I think we should dump the place.”
“What? No!”
“The market out there is hot right now. We could get almost five times what we paid for it fifteen years ago.”
“Yes, but then what? Neither of us would be able to afford a replacement.”
“You might be able to pick up a small place up toward the lighthouse that isn’t on the beach. I don’t really even like it out there anymore, so I wouldn’t rebuy.”
“I love our house. We can’t sell it.”
“Well, if we don’t do something, it will fall into the water within the next few years. That’ll solve our problem.”
God, he really was always a jerk. “We do need to do something—pay for the repair.”
“So you’re gonna come up with sixty grand, then?”
“Sixty? Thirty would be my half.”
“Told you I don’t have the thirty either.”
“But our divorce agreement requires us to each pay half.”
“Can’t pay what I don’t have.”
Ryan made a good salary. Although, he was paying me alimony and paying college tuition and still had to foot the bill for his own house. I wanted to argue with him and say that was his problem, but it was actually our problem, and it became my problem if I wanted to keep the summer place.
“What if we take a mortgage on the Montauk house to pay for the repair?”
“I can’t afford another payment, Val.”
“I’ll pay it. I have a job now. You only have two more years of alimony. When that’s done, you can help me pay it off.”
“See if you can even get a mortgage, and we’ll talk about it. Otherwise, I don’t think we have a choice but to sell it.”
Great. I’m sure the bank will love my one month of employment history.
Chapter 30
* * *
Ford
“Ford? Is that you?”
Shit.
I’d started passing by Eve’s restaurant pretty much every day, but it was the first time in four weeks that I’d run into her. I’d made it a few steps past the door when she opened it and called after me.
“Oh, hey. I was just passing by. I have an appointment a few blocks away or I would have stopped in to say hi.” Yeah, right.
Eve gave me a suspect smile, but I wasn’t sure which part of my bullshit she wasn’t buying. She thumbed toward the restaurant behind her. “I was setting the table, getting ready for dinner reservations, when I saw you walk by.”