Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 132031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“Babe, think about it,” she said. “We have a week before school starts again. I wanted to take them to San Antonio for the weekend after Thanksgiving. It’ll be fun for them.”
Dev put his elbows on the edge of the granite, tucking his hands underneath his forearms, leaning toward her. The food was forgotten. “I think about you bein’ so young, walkin’ down the street and my old man bein’ thirty years old, pullin’ over on his sled to holler at you. That shit worries me about the girls growin’ up where I live.” The disgust of the reality of such a situation had Dev balling his fists. “You gave up your life for me and Shanna. You’re supposed to be in the prime of your life now. Not saddlin’ yourself with my kids.”
She shook her head at him. “I’m not going to raise your children. You are. I’ll be here to have your back like you’ve always had mine. Especially during the holidays when you make most of your money,” she explained. “And I love this house. They will too. They already have rooms here. You can have the guest house. It’s small but has its own entrance and bathroom.”
He nodded, hearing Mae’s footsteps running toward them. She bounded into the room, not hesitating to climb onto the stool next to his. “The movie’s over. Do you like the fried chicken? Momo said it’s your favorite.”
“I can’t believe I forgot to ask you about the man you kissed!” his mother exclaimed.
His scowl landed on his daughter. “What happens in Daddy’s house stays in Daddy’s house,” he teased, and she grinned, giving a full-body shiver in her exuberance.
“Momo says sometimes boys marry each other, so you can marry him if you want.” Her dreamy tone held hints of romance and fairytales.
“Thanks for the permission,” he said to both the females in the room. “Where’s your dog?”
“Abi took him outside. He’s a lot of work.” A long piece of Mae’s hair fell forward, and she blew it out of her face.
Since they were going random, he decided to ask his mom about the younger boy Tena had mentioned. Hazy images and memories had started to trickle forward. “Do you remember the kid who got shanked…”
His mother finished his sentence. “When you were nine years old? You were stabbed too, several times. That was the bravest thing I think you’ve ever done. You saved that boy’s life.”
“Who was the boy?” he asked. He’d been in too many fights and had done too many drugs. He doubted he could remember anything correctly.
“Ryan Cashin James. I’ll never forget him. I went to the court trials because they were prosecuting for you too. That little guy didn’t leave the hospital for months and had many surgeries after his initial stay.”
“I don’t remember really,” he said, honestly. “I wonder why I don’t remember?”
“I saved a lot of the newspaper articles. I can pull them for you. I followed him for a few years during the parole hearings. When those boys were released, I lost track of Ryan. His parents moved around a lot. They had a traveling ministry if I remember correctly and lived a more basic lifestyle. The one time your father met them, he spouted an earful about their peace, love, and happiness attitude. He blamed them for you being hurt. You know how he is.”
“Why did he meet ’em?” His father had never taken an active role in his younger life.
“They came to the shop to check on you. I wasn’t there but the guys told me what he said. It’s always funny how he becomes the opposite of whoever he’s talking to. They were hippies so he went card carrying patriot.”
Yeah, he’d witnessed that many times. His old man went off on both sides of the political spectrum just to be an asshole. As if his core belief system wasn’t to be a disruptive anarchist.
“Why do you ask about him?”
“T,” he said, not wanting to say Tena’s name in front of Mae. He nodded to the little bit beside him who was all ears. “Brought him up. My neighbor has a similar scar, I guess.”
“Is he blond and small?” she asked.
“Dark and tall,” Dev answered and mouthed the words hot as hell before taking another bite.
“The last time I remembered getting information from the parole board, his parents were in…maybe the East Coast.”
“This guy’s from Southern California. Relocated here for work,” Dev said.
“Invite him to Thanksgiving,” his mom suggested.
“And have him meet my father? No thanks. I’m enough to handle on my own. Imagine if Dad started in on me nursin’. He’s way too normal for all this family dysfunction. And it’s not serious. He’s just cool,” Dev explained, reaching for the chicken leg and taking another bite.
“The offer stands,” she said, smiling at Mae. “Are you ready for some ice cream?”