Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Cue the damn sadness again. A pang of guilt hit me. Brad should’ve been the one to enjoy this delicious meal with her. It felt wrong to derive any pleasure at all from this. The moment felt stolen. Just like the damn dog staring up at me with googly eyes. Stolen.
Suddenly the guilt became too much to bear. It was late, but I needed some air and to get out of this house for a bit. I’d need to take her car. We’d decided that since only one of us ever left at a time, it wouldn’t be necessary for me to rent one.
Taking my phone out, I pretended to check the time. “I actually have to go out for a bit. Scottie’s already sleeping and should be good for a while. Is it okay if I take your car?”
“Of course.” She tilted her head. “Where to?”
“I’m meeting someone I met online for a drink,” I lied. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, though.”
“This late?”
“Yeah.”
Her expression fell. “Ah. Okay…no rush. Have a good time.”
As I got into the car and drove off, I had no clue where I was headed. All I knew was that being back in Woodsboro made me feel things I didn’t want to feel—things I hadn’t felt in a while—about my mother and about Brad. I’d come home for Christmas over the years, but those trips were always a quick stay at Michael’s house and then right back to Chicago. In and out. But now, being in Brad’s old house without him made me feel like an imposter. Not to mention, the daily reminder that three out of the four people in the Longo family were now gone was a hard pill to swallow.
Needing a way to drown it all out for a bit, I just blasted the music and drove, with no destination in sight.
CHAPTER 7
* * *
CARLY
IT WAS PRETTY remarkable how well Josh and I had learned to manage things in just a couple of weeks. That’s not to say we always got along; bickering seemed to be one of our favorite pastimes. But we were on a schedule and in a groove. I looked after Scottie as best I could while Josh worked during the day. Then he’d take over while I ran errands or got dinner ready in the evenings. It wasn’t always seamless, but the house and Scottie were both still in one piece, so I considered that winning.
The goldendoodle I’d affectionately named Bubba was still with us as well. There were no leads as to where he’d come from, and much to Josh’s chagrin, it looked like the dog would continue living with us.
Josh continued to sleep every night on the air mattress he’d bought. Despite my many offers to take turns with the bedroom, he refused.
I decided to take advantage of Lauren, Scottie’s therapist, being at the house one afternoon and booked an appointment to get my roots touched up. Although I had naturally dark blonde hair, back in L.A., I had always gotten lighter-blonde highlights.
Nadine’s Nest was certainly unlike the glamorous salon I went to back home. There were only two chairs in the whole place, and instead of photos of hair models on the walls, there were a few posters of 70’s icons like Elvis and Cher. The owner of the salon, Nadine, ran it with her daughter Bianca. As Bianca did my foil highlights, I ended up telling her the entire story of how I’d ended up in Woodsboro.
“So you don’t have all that much time today, then,” she said as she painted some of my strands.
“I told Josh I’d be back by four.”
She paused. “Josh is the guy who’s helping you take care of your fiancé’s brother?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his last name?”
“Mathers.”
“Oh…” She smirked. “Small world around here. I know Josh Mathers.”
Of course, you do. “Why did you make that face?”
“He dated my sister in high school.” She folded a piece of foil. “They graduated the same year. We have a nickname for him.”
“What is it?”
“The dick.”
Yep. I rolled my eyes. “Not very original.”
“Well, he had a big dick and he is a big dick. So it’s fitting.”
My skin heated. “Okay. I didn’t need to know that.”
“He cheated on Nicole, actually. But that was a long time ago. I’m sure he’s changed by now.”
I’m not so sure. “So you must’ve known my fiancé, Brad Longo, too?”
“Ah, yes. He was a sweet guy. I was so sorry to hear he passed. I didn’t make the connection when you mentioned the brother with autism, but now this all makes sense. You were Brad’s fiancée. Wow.” She stopped working for a moment to look at me. “Again, I’m really sorry for your loss.”
I hated when people said that. It always brought me back to the week Brad died and the awful state of denial I’d been in, one I probably hadn’t fully exited even now.