Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
I wasn’t so sure about that.
“Ryn, if he isn’t, that’ll mean he has more work to do,” Mom decreed.
“Right,” I said uncertainly.
“Right,” she said decisively.
“I think we need to back down now from the in-your-face stuff,” I told her.
She nodded. “I agree. But we’re not bailing him out, Ryn. He faces the consequences. We can support him however he lets us do that, but not that way. Last night could have been much worse. We’ve inadvertently enabled him for a long time. That stops now.”
It was my turn to nod.
She let out a big breath.
After doing that, she muttered, “Let’s get on finishing this lasagna to feed your man and his folks, because I need to get on making my Caesar salad dressing.”
Bonus to Mom being in the mix, she was making her Caesar salad. From scratch. Something she hadn’t taught me. And something that was brilliant.
We finished up and I was tidying up while Mom called Boone to assist in locating all the gear she needed to make her dressing.
Boone gave me a soft-eyed look and gentle grin as he strode his long-legged stride to help out my mom.
I gave him one back.
My eyes then strayed to the couch and I saw Anne-Marie was doing something on her phone.
But Porter had his gaze on me.
When he caught mine, he smiled his own gentle grin.
My heart squeezed and it wasn’t unpleasantly.
I gave him one back.
Chapter Twenty-One
My Eternity
Ryn
Okay, so paint. Then flooring. Then kitchen. And we’ll go out this weekend and make definite decisions about lighting and order that bathroom stuff. And just sayin’, I still think your mom is right about the lighting.”
“Dad’s right about the lighting.”
“I think we should go chrome.”
“Polished nickel.”
It was Tuesday morning.
Boone’s parents were gone.
My brother was out of jail pending a court hearing where, according to the attorney he’d hired (news Mom gave me, Brian hadn’t contacted me), the amount of damage done to the other car and his blood alcohol level were going to mean he’d probably serve time. Not much. A few days. Maybe a few weeks. But also maybe enough to give him (another) wakeup call.
Sunday Boone and his parents and I had brunch with my mom (she tried to demur, saying the Sadlers needed time with Boone and me without her butting in, but Anne-Marie would hear none of it). Then off we all went as per Porter’s demand to look at fittings and fixtures for the house.
Mag and Evie, Axl, Auggie, Lottie and Mo met us for dinner and Mom officially got to meet Boone’s friends.
She seemed really happy about it. Happy about the day. Happy about the dinner. Happy about how awesome my friends were. She and Anne-Marie got on like wildfire, so happy to have a new friend. And happy for me.
Her happy made me happy.
And we needed some of that.
Boone’s parents left Monday afternoon and Mom phoned Monday night to share that Angelica was Brian’s first call. And she went to the hospital for the sole purpose of sharing she was washing her hands of him.
So now was now, back to the grind, but with a plan.
I was beginning to get a bit antsy about the fact I still was not back onstage at Smithie’s, but I couldn’t say it sucked that I had time to focus on the house which meant chasing my dream for my future.
“We’ll have another look at them this weekend and decide at the store,” Boone decreed about the lighting.
“Okay,” I agreed.
“Who called?” he asked.
I looked from my notebook, where I was keeping track of all things house, to Boone. “Who called? When?”
“About Brian.”
He hadn’t brought it up since our conversation in my backyard. Mom and I talked about it, but Boone had been letting it be. Probably in order not to upset me. Or not get pissed himself.
I would find in short order it was the latter.
At the time, though, I didn’t know that, so I looked back to the notebook and spoke.
“Angelica. When she called me, she shared she was done with him. She also shared I could tell him that and tell him he couldn’t see his kids unless he cleaned up. And she put a line under our relationship, saying being done with Brian meant being done with me, so she shared her truth about how her life was in the toilet after all Brian had done to her, having kids so early, she can’t go out to clubs and whatever, and she did what she did because she just needed some time to be normal.”
I was talking and making notes about where first to tackle paint (kitchen) when I realized Boone didn’t reply.
It was then, woefully belatedly, I felt the mood of the room.
Boone’s mood.
I looked to him.
Oh man.
At the granite set of his face, I straightened from the counter I was leaning over, but before I could say anything, he asked, “So she’s done with you, but you’re still her mouthpiece to your brother?”