Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82480 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“It’s so nice to meet you!” the woman said. “We were glad to hear you’d be reopening. We missed this place. Your grandmother was a special woman.”
Please don’t ask about Mom or the adoption, please don’t ask about Mom or the adoption.
“Thank you. Gene has been sharing stories with me. They were—”
“Partners,” Gideon cut me off.
Partners. Right. I should use that word. Lovers might make the kids get embarrassed.
“Feel free to have a look around,” I added. When they walked away, I asked, “Do I have to greet everyone like that?”
“No, sweets. You’re fine. I’ll greet people,” Rachel said.
“Oh, thank God. I’m already over it.”
Gideon chuckled.
People filtered in and out over the next half hour, and it wasn’t so bad. Autumn was kept busy making coffee, and Rachel did a lot of the talking, though people would approach me from time to time.
At one point a gentleman who looked about thirty came in and asked, “Do you have The Street Vendor’s Son by Wilder Welles?”
I was fairly certain my eyeballs nearly popped out. “Oh my God! Yes. I love that book!”
And it was a queer book too. Maybe Gideon hadn’t been as alone as he thought here.
“Come with me. I’ll show you.” I led him over and plucked the book off the shelf for him, and then we walked together to the register, where I began to ring up his order. “Have you read it?” I asked.
Gideon was close, and I saw him watching us. I gave him a thumbs-up.
“No, but I’ve heard great things.” He grinned at me. Well, he seemed nice.
“I’m Milo Copeland.”
“Nelson. Nice to meet you.”
“You too.”
“Do you plan on having a book club? If so, I’d like to join.”
This was so exciting! I loved making new friends. “Yes, I do. My best friend—well, one of them—got me to read Alice in Wonderland. I wasn’t a fan. The movie was weird too, so I’d likely be picky on the selections, but it’s definitely on my list.”
“I’ll have to come back and get information on it, then.”
“I hope you do.”
He gave me what seemed like a shy wave, then slipped out.
“Gideon! Did you see that? He was nice. Do you know him?”
He was frowning. “No, I’ve never seen him before in my life. Tourist, maybe.”
“He said he wanted to join the book club, so I think he must be new here.”
Gideon crossed his arms.
“What’s wrong?”
“I love what you’ve done with the place!” a woman interrupted us. “Your grandmother was lovely. We didn’t know…about her and Beverly.”
“Neither did Beverly.”
“Oh…” she replied. I thought she might not have liked my answer, but I didn’t care.
Gideon threaded his arm through mine, and wow, that felt nice. My pulse immediately slowed down.
“If you’ll excuse us,” he told her.
More people approached us from there. It was slightly overwhelming—all the attention and questions—but luckily no one tried to touch me.
Gideon stayed glued to my side. We were by the table as he picked up a mini sandwich when I heard, “What’s up, Snacks?” in a voice I recognized as his brother’s. I looked up to see Orlando with a pretty woman who had a round pregnant belly; then Kris, and the woman who must be his wife, Megan, and then two older people who were clearly Gideon’s parents.
Nausea immediately went to war with my body, attacking my gut fiercely and brutally. Gideon was my best friend. I wanted his family to like me. I didn’t want them to wonder why he would want to hang out with someone like me.
Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up.
“I really hate it when you call me that,” Gideon told him. Of course, at the same time, about ten more people showed up. We stepped out of the way of the food, and he turned to me. “I had a thing about sneaking snacks when I was a kid. The whole hand-in-the-cookie-jar thing? That was me.”
“Oh…well, that’s okay. You have a great body. Even if you didn’t, that would be okay. I think as a society we put too much emphasis on physical attributes and how much someone weighs.” I looked at Orlando. “Not that you’re doing that. I wasn’t trying to insinuate that’s something you do. I just…” Shut up! That’s what you need to do—shut up.
“Thank you for defending my honor.” Gideon rested his hand on the back of my neck, caressing my nape in what I knew was support. “Also, did you hear that? I have a great body,” he told his brother. Before anyone could say anything—and by anyone, I meant me—Gideon continued. “Mom, Dad, Heather, this is Milo. Lo, you met my idiot brother, and Kris and Meg at the Lighthouse, but this is Heather, my dad who’s also Orlando, and my mom, Annemarie.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Milo. Gideon has told us so much about you,” Annemarie said. I saw all their gazes flitter toward Gideon’s hand on my neck, so I stepped away from him.