Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“I’ll keep that option in my back pocket, though. Thanks, Huck.”
My father nodded sagely, his scraggly gray beard brushing the front of his V-neck hemp shirt where it met the vegan leather cord that held his green aventurine stone. It was a heart chakra crystal meant to attract abundance, and Huck had always looked at us kids with the kind of affection that told me exactly what he considered abundance to mean.
My mother, on the other hand, wore moonstone to bring luck and joy to her adventures. It was for the crown chakra—the center of transformation—which basically summed up Willow Honeycutt’s deepest desire. Sometimes I thought she didn’t much care what she transformed into, so long as it didn’t happen here.
My father gave me a knowing grin. “The Spider has plenty of room for nookie, Flynn. Don’t knock it till you try it.”
Willow looked over from where she was tending the burgers on the grill. “But bring some anti-negativity spray if you’re going to do that. Huck and I had a disagreement the last time we drove it. You’ll want to clean that out before trying to create amorous vibes.”
Castor looked up from his phone with a frown. “What did you fight about?”
My little brother was always the peacemaker, worried about harmony and family unity. I loved him for it, though I often worried about his tender heart.
Huck broke in. “Not a fight, son. More of a slight—” He coughed a bit guiltily. “—disagreement.”
“Huck wanted to go back to Morocco,” Willow said as if it was the worst thing anyone could suggest. “In the winter.”
“How dare he want to take you back to one of your favorite places,” Alden said with obvious sarcasm.
Our mother waved this off. “I liked Morocco fine, but right now, my heart is set on going to Sri Lanka. Yoga on the sea in the morning and a mangrove safari on the Madu river after lunch. And the weather in midsummer is so perfect you can sleep right out under the stars.” She sighed happily.
Midsummer.
I shot my father a look, and Huck shrugged in a familiar “you know your mother” way before nudging her aside and taking over the grill.
“Sri Lanka?” I pinned my mother with a glare. “When are you leaving?”
“Well.” She fiddled with the little silver bells on her bracelet. “You know, August is the inter-monsoon season, but the least crowded time to travel is just a little before that—”
“When?” I insisted.
“Three weeks. We booked our tickets last night.”
I clamped my teeth together and nodded. “Brew Fest is in five weeks. You promised you’d help me prepare for it since it’s also my busiest season at the Tavern.”
I wasn’t sure why I bothered restating the facts when Willow was perfectly aware of them. She’d done what she always did—made all kinds of promises about being here for us and then flitting away on another adventure without a second thought. The wanderlust, the incessant need for more and different, was part of who she was, and I’d tried to stop fighting it long ago.
It hadn’t worked.
Willow’s warm brown eyes flashed up to me with a hint of apology. “I know, darling, and I meant it. I did! But Dr. Vindhya can only see us at that time, and I’ve been following her for ages and ages. She’s the one who does the pulse diagnosis to balance the doshas—remember me mentioning it? You have no idea how out of balance your father’s vata is.”
I could honestly say I didn’t, but I also wasn’t about to justify the remark with a response, so I simply nodded again and walked off.
I kicked off my shoes and wandered down to the lake’s edge, dipping my toes in the cool water and daring the insects to try me. Suddenly, I was in a slapping mood.
A few moments later, steady footsteps followed behind me, and my grandfather appeared at my side. “Huck and Willow told you about their next adventure?”
I nodded, keeping my gaze on the water, even when the golden sunshine reflecting off the water seared my eyes. “Don’t know why I’m surprised. They’ve stuck around for five months this time. Not sure they’ve been here for that many months together since Castor and PJ graduated high school.”
Pop sighed and shifted his hands into the pockets of his khaki pants. “Don’t worry, Firecracker. The work’ll get done in time for your festival. Your brothers and I will make sure of it. And plenty of other Honeybridgers will pitch in, too, if you ask ’em. You know how this town works.”
I let out a breath. “Yeah, I know. It’s just frustrating, Pop.” I huffed out a laugh. “You’d think I’d be used to it by now, right? I mean, how old was I when they first started traveling? Eleven?” I shook my head at myself. “Twenty years, and it still pisses me off. I think I’m more angry at myself for caring than I am at them for leaving.”