Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“What about your dad?” I asked him, already knowing the answer was going to piss me off.
The kid shrugged. “Don’t know. Never met him. Mom got pregnant young, and he didn’t want to be a dad. She tried to get in touch with him several times. She doesn’t know I know that though. I overheard her talking to her best friend about it.”
Yep. I was pissed. Poor kid knew his dad didn’t want him. No one should feel like that. Especially a kid.
“Mr. Finlay,” Norton, the general contractor, called out my name, and I turned my attention to the man waiting for me.
“Where is it?” I asked him.
He pointed at a palm tree that did look like it was dying. I studied it a moment.
“Think it can be saved if we call someone who knows something about this stuff?”
He shrugged. “Doubtful, but I can try.”
I hated to chop it down if it had a chance. “Try,” I replied. “It’s not completely dead. There could be hope.”
Norton nodded. “Also, what about the pool? You made a decision on its renovation yet?”
“I’ll let you know by the end of the week,” I said, then added, “Do you have a Sharpie on you?”
Norton fished around in a pocket on his work belt, then pulled out a black Sharpie. “This work?” he asked.
“Perfect,” I told him, then turned to the kid, realizing he’d never told me his name.
He held out his sticks to me. I took them and signed each one, then handed them back.
“Thanks! This is the best thing ever. Mom isn’t going to believe it,” he said, staring at my signature like it was the holy grail.
“I’m sure there are some things better in life,” I replied.
He shook his head emphatically. “No! There isn’t. I gotta go show her,” he said. “Are you serious about playing a set with me sometime?” he asked nervously.
I nodded. “Yes. But first, it might help if I knew your name,” I replied.
He grinned brightly. “Cam. Cam McGinnis,” he said. “You want our apartment number?” he asked.
Cam. McGinnis. This was Cam. The pictures. I’d seen him in the pictures. I’d thought … I’d thought he was her brother. I’d assumed they were siblings. I stood there, replaying every conversation, every moment, every single mention of his name. Words didn’t come right away, and I knew I needed to say something. But the fact that I’d just been slapped in the face with information I’d never expected had left me speechless.
“I got a phone too. I’m only supposed to use it to talk to Mom and my best friend, Jeremy, but she won’t mind if I give it to you. Mom used to be a big Slacker Demon fan. She almost got to go to your concert a long time ago, but her foster mom wouldn’t let her go.”
He continued to talk. To tell me things. Things I should have known. Things I hadn’t asked.
All the assumptions I’d made … fuck!
“Your mama ever tell you that beauty is only skin deep?”
Jesus! She was a foster kid. Fuck me! Damn, I was lucky she ever spoke to me again. I was a royal asshole.
“Uh, yeah,” I managed to get out. “I know your apartment number.”
He looked confused but didn’t argue. He waved the sticks at me. “Thanks again! See you soon!” Then, he turned and ran back toward the entrance to the building.
I stood there and stared at him. How had I not realized it the moment he looked up at me with those eyes? They were her eyes.
How old had she been when she had him? And she was a foster kid? How the fuck had she managed to keep him? Take care of him? She’d worked extra to send him to music camp. That was where he’d been. That phone conversation where I’d thought she was giving some guy hell, she’d been a worried mother.
I was one stupid motherfucker.
And I realized I didn’t know Brielle McGinnis at all.
eighteen
brielle
The smell of lasagna filled the apartment. When Cam was at camp, I hadn’t made real meals just for myself. Now that he was home, I was cooking daily. Yesterday, it had been tacos. The day before that, it had been fried chicken with mashed potatoes and green beans. The day he had gotten home, it had been fettuccini Alfredo with fresh Gulf shrimp. I had missed having a reason to cook.
I finished folding the rest of the laundry and left it in little piles all over the sofa to go pull the lasagna out of the oven. Cam would be back by five for dinner, and I’d have him put the laundry away, so we could sit in the living room after dinner and watch the new Marvel movie he had been wanting to see. It was available to stream, and I’d already purchased it as a surprise.