Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
I turn my gaze upward to the ceiling. The lights flicker again like there’s an electrical storm going on. She should really get it looked at. It can’t be safe.
Luna shifts from one foot to the other. She’s never been capable of telling a lie cleanly. It was one of the many things I loved about her—her unwavering kindness and honesty. Well, I guess it’s two things. The memory train is chugging now.
“No, I don’t. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do,” I insist.
“Nope. No idea.”
“That…your…your son. He’s…”
“He’s my son. Yes, mine. That’s right. I don’t see what you need to talk to me about where he’s concerned.” Her palms flex on the counter while her eyes do this thing where they dart back and forth for the briefest span of time.
I know she’s lying.
“Luna…” Her name on my lips feels so good, so right. It’s been so long, but it’s there, gentle and flowing like the sweetest water or a fountain of youth. It’s like a time machine might exist, and she’s the key. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
This is Luna here. The gentlest, sweetest, kindest woman I ever met. The most beautiful too, but that was always extra. She’s the woman who was always unfailingly honest, often to her own detriment. It’s been five years, but the fact that her huge brown eyes well up with moisture proves she hasn’t changed one bit.
I find myself irrationally glad about that. As if I have any right to feel one way or the other. But I am glad. I’m glad she’s still a good person, that she defied the odds and made her dream a reality, even with the unexpected and all the regular shit against her. She always had this rock-hard core, which was another thing I truly admired about her.
“He’s mine, isn’t he?” I ask softly and gently as if I’m trying to coax a skittish colt into letting me feed it a carrot. Not that I’ve ever had contact with horses, but that’s what comes to mind.
The lights flicker again, but this time it flickers hard like an actual lightning show lighting up the sky before it plunges us into total darkness, which isn’t really total darkness since it’s broad daylight outside. The sunshine is still coming in through the big glass windows on either side of the storefront we’re both standing in.
It’s still creepy, though.
The bag in my hand finally becomes so hot that I have to set it down on the counter or risk getting burned.
Through it all, Luna just stands at the counter, her entire being still and frozen. The statue of a goddess, made of flesh and blood. Then, her head bobs on her shoulders, and she bites down hard on her bottom lip, giving me a nod that’s going to change my life forever.
“Not here,” she says carefully. “There’s a place in the French Quarter that serves all-you-can-eat lobster. I’ve always wanted to try it. It’s straight-up New Orleans style, but I say that with a massive grain of salt because they only have tourists in mind. Their servers all dress in black and wear black masks of some sort. It’s very ritzy.”
“Why not here?” As the lights flicker again, I think I have my answer.
Luna’s eyes flash like the lights overhead, letting me know she’d be ready to go to battle if that’s what it takes. “Even if I send Milo to the park, this is my store, my home. I’m not talking about this here.”
I don’t want to upset her, and I don’t want her to have to feel like she’s going to war with me. I…I just want…I just need to talk to her. The last thing I want is to be threatening, such that she clams up tighter than a clam in a jam and won’t tell me a thing, let alone entertain the idea of allowing me into her life.
Because I know that’s what I want. How can I not?
“Stoveli’s and Stevelie’s. I’ll lock up and tell my babysitter to take Milo to the park. Meet me there in half an hour.”
“Stove and what? How can anyone name a place something like that? That’s supposed to be high-end? So high-end that no one can remember or pronounce it? Or is it a good old New Orleans-style mystery?”
“Half an hour. There or nothing.” There’s something new in Luna’s expression, something fierce.
I always knew she had a fire in her, but this woman now looks more like a fighter than I’ve ever seen her look before. Her face is absolutely grim. I’ve never seen that before, but if this is her new—I’m a warrior and a mother, and I’ll readily kick all ass to protect my son, especially yours, so don’t even think about testing me, or I will destroy you—look, I have to say, bravo. Just. Bravo.