Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I’d prefer it if he would leave the room as I’d like one more opportunity to impress upon my mother she can come to Pittsburgh. I won’t say anything in front of him, though, because I don’t want her to suffer for it.
We spend about fifteen minutes—me on one side of the bed, Juniper on the other—speaking of unimportant stuff because the things I want to say must be quelled. I kiss my mom gently on the cheek and peer into her eyes as I try to convey the invitation one more time with only a look.
She understands me and smiles. “I love you,” she says, patting my cheek. It’s all she’ll commit to.
“I love you too.”
Juniper leans over and takes her hand. “I’ll check in on you every day. Rest well and get stronger. You call me anytime, okay?”
“You call me anytime too,” my mom says, her eyes misting a bit. “You’re my daughter, Juni. Don’t ever forget that.”
Juniper leans over to hug her and my mom whispers loud enough that I can hear it. “I’m glad you’re getting out. Don’t come back, Juniper.”
My eyes dart over to Preston, still focused on his phone. It wasn’t loud enough to hear but I just wanted to make sure. He would have considered that a direct betrayal, encouraging Juniper to leave his son.
We shower my mom with a few more hugs and kisses. As we leave the room, I only stop long enough to tell Preston, “Call me if she has any issues at all.”
Preston nods curtly. I want to tell him to get some psychological help for his son, but that would only inflame matters. I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.
CHAPTER 12
Juniper
I’ve never been to Pennsylvania before. I’ve hardly been anywhere, which seems odd given the money I married into by joining myself to Joshua Willard.
Outside of attending college in Denver with Callum, I’ve been to a few cities in California a handful of times with Joshua when he’d have to travel to the stores. He took me to New York for our fifth wedding anniversary. We got into a fight in the hotel room before dinner. He was drunk, pushed me into the mini bar and stormed out of the room. I didn’t see him again until the next morning when it was time to catch our flight home. He never said a word about any of it, nor did he apologize.
I didn’t care. It was par for the course and I didn’t expect different.
Callum arranged for a car service to pick us up… a big Suburban that easily held all of my suitcases and his one modest bag. We sat in the back seat, Callum quietly talking on the phone with someone about the team—perhaps the coach. I try to tune out as I don’t want to eavesdrop and instead focus my attention out the window to take in what will be my new home, at least for the foreseeable future.
The landscape unfolds in a patchwork of suburban sprawl and green expanses. Shopping centers and office parks give way to rolling green hills. Communities dot the way, box-shaped homes nestled in pockets of serene woodland or perched on slopes, offering fleeting glimpses into everyday life. Leaning left, I look through the windshield and see a tunnel approaching… something I’ve never been through in my life.
Callum notices, puts a hand over the phone speaker and murmurs, “That’s the Fort Pitt Tunnel. The city is on the other side.”
The mouth of the tunnel swallows us up and weirdly, it feels instantly cooler in the vehicle. Artificial lights flicker overhead, casting a rhythmic glow that plays over the interior. The outside noise is muffled, replaced by the echo of vehicles encapsulated within the same stretch. As the darkness of the Fort Pitt Tunnel releases its hold, we’re thrust into daylight, and the Pittsburgh skyline steals my breath.
The buildings, a collection of aspirations set in steel and glass, rise from the ground, their surfaces shimmering with the reflections of a river that winds beneath them like a ribbon of blue silk. One structure, taller and more striking than the rest, pierces the sky, commanding my attention. It stands as if it were the very embodiment of the city’s industrious spirit, a monolith among the clouds. The green slopes of surrounding hills provide a lush counterpoint to the urban contours, serving as a reminder of nature’s proximity to man’s achievements. There are so many bridges—varied shapes, colors and sizes—spanning the watery divide, linking the city’s parts into a coherent whole.
“It’s incredible,” I murmur.
“Cannon… let me call you back,” Callum says, and I turn to find him pocketing his phone. He points through the windows and starts identifying various buildings and bridges, of course pointing out most prominently the Titans’ arena.
We drive past the city only a few miles and then we’re in a more suburban area, supposedly on our way to Callum’s home. He didn’t tell me much other than he lived north of Pittsburgh in a gated community. This didn’t surprise me as I assume he’s made quite a bit of money in his career and he’s taking very good care of my dad. I know how costly those bills are.