Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136296 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
He’s coming back the weekend of the draft because it’s what we always do. “For sure. Take care of my sister, okay?”
He gives me a wry smile. “Eh, it’s more her taking care of me than the other way around these days, but I promise I’ll keep her safe.”
“I know you will. You always have, even when it was hard on you.”
Lavender squeezes her way between us and wraps her arms around me. She’s wearing a dress she most definitely made and is the same color as her name. She’s so short, her face is in my armpit. “I’m gonna miss you, even though you were basically a ghost this semester.” She lets me go and tips her head up so she can meet my eyes. I think she’s a little drunk. I’m guessing she had Kody sneak her champagne on the sly, or my mom gave it to her. Either option is possible. “I hope whoever she is, I get to meet her one day.”
I roll my eyes. “How are you fishing when you’re about to get on a plane?”
“That was not a no, which is as good as a yes.” She pats my cheek. “I love you. Thank you—for everything. I know it hasn’t always been easy to be my brother.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Do not get emotional on me.” I pull her in for another hug and bend down until I’m close enough to her ear that I can whisper. “I’m always on your side, Lavender. Always. You taught me what strength is. I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I don’t know why I’m suddenly all choked up, but I’m grateful when my mom pushes her way between us again and basically sobs all over Lavender. My dad gives Kody one last be-responsible lecture, which is pointless since they’re driving them to the airport, along with Kody’s parents, and they’ll have at least forty minutes for be-safe lectures on the way.
Mom threads her arm through mine on the way out to our cars. “When are you coming to Lake Geneva for a visit?”
I guide us around a sewer grate, because my mom could trip over a toothpick. “I’m basically full-time at the gym now until training camp starts. I can check the schedule and see about an overnight, but I’m not coming up to visit if all you’re gonna do is lecture me on my life choices.” Nashville is out of the playoffs, which buys me some time, and it’s the same for Kody.
She makes a face. “I’m worried about you.”
“I graduated with a degree. I’m on track with hockey. What are you worried about?”
She stops walking, which forces me to stop as well. She glances around, checking to see if anyone is listening, but they’re all busy hugging and chatting. “You’re still seeing that woman.” It’s a statement.
“Why does it matter?”
She pokes at her cheek with her tongue. “I don’t want you to make life-altering decisions influenced by someone you’ve never formally introduced to us.”
“Is that you asking to meet her?”
“Has she managed to get the divorce papers signed yet? What about the husband? Have you seen him around?”
A week and a half ago, I started to suspect that he may have switched cars from the black BMW to a blue Kia. I can’t prove that it’s him because the windows are tinted and always rolled up, but I’ve taken down the license plate and I’ve seen it a few times. Unfortunately, there are two other blue Kias in the neighborhood, also with tinted windows, belonging to students. Now I see blue Kias everywhere, and I’m forever checking the license plates. So is Clover. But I’m not telling Mom that.
“I don’t think anything I say right now is going to make you happy, and you need to focus your energy on Lavender and getting her on a plane to New York. Your issues with my life choices are still going to be here after you’ve dropped her off.”
“Don’t think I won’t corner you when I get the chance.”
“I know you will.” I kiss her on top of the head. “I love you, and I know you love me back, and that’s why you’re being overbearing. I’m an adult. I can make adult decisions. You’re emotional because your baby girl is about to spread her wings and fly. This conversation can wait until another day when your feelings aren’t on fire.”
She huffs, likely aware that I’m right. “I love you too. All of my gray hairs came from you.” I know she’s joking, and she doesn’t mean it the way I’ve taken it, but the sting is still there.
“I know.” I smile, but it feels stiff. “I’m sorry for that. I’m trying my best to atone for my mistakes, but I don’t always get it right.”
“Vi, honey, we need to get going so the kids have lots of time to get checked in,” Dad calls.