Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16188 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Getting to his feet, he followed the path she’d taken and found her standing, arms folded across her chest, and he hated to see her looking so deflated. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
“How can you want to touch me?” she asked.
“How can I not?” He kissed her neck, breathing her in. “When I think I know everything about you, I find out more that makes me want you even more.”
“Why?”
“You’re a fighter, Sage. Your grandmother taught you to read, to write.”
“She taught me everything she knew,” she said.
“She’s not around anymore?”
Sage shook her head. “She died five years ago. You met her once.”
“I did?”
“Yeah, we were eating at the diner, and you were staring at your laptop, typing at the speed of light. We were passing your table when my grandmother dropped her cane, and you picked it up for her.”
“I don’t remember,” he said. Work dominated his life.
“It’s fine. She said that you were a fine man, but way too much of a workaholic.” Sage chuckled and he wanted to know what the joke was.
“What?” he asked.
“She said that if you had a family, she felt sorry for them, because unless they were digital, they wouldn’t get your attention.”
“You have my attention, Sage, always.”
****
Sage stirred the vegetables into the spicy sauce and quickly glanced at the cookbook. Her grandmother’s handwriting was always so neat, but unfortunately, this curry was written by herself when she was so young.
Part of her learning developed in the kitchen. With food, she was able to remember. It was the place her grandmother taught her math through the power of baking.
She couldn’t believe she had told Noah about every single element of her life. It scared her what she revealed about herself.
Life with her grandmother was a dream. One she had loved so much. She missed her grandmother every single day. The house she’d grown up in had been taken from her after the funeral, and she’d kept as many personal effects as she could, which wasn’t many.
The cookbooks hadn’t been used in a long time, and now as she looked at them, seeing the notes and scribbling, she wished she had.
Noah was due home any minute, and she had rushed home early to make this to see what he thought. He kept on telling her to start making this home hers, but it was hard for her to do so. This was his place, and even though they now lived together, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d find someone else and kick her out.
For nine years, she lived like that. Her mother dragging her from place to place, with each new boyfriend, a new sense of hope. Of course, it never lasted. A few weeks were all it took before they had to move on. A couple of her boyfriends stayed for a few months, but Sage always had a bag packed. Whenever it was time to move on, there was always a fight, and it never ended well. Sometimes her mother ended up beaten, hit, or something, which always mean she ended up taking the brunt of her mother’s anger.
That all ended with her grandmother. The nightmares she used to have.
She remembered when her grandmother found the plastic bag of clothes and canned food she packed ready to leave at a moment’s notice. When her grandmother asked, Sage had told her everything.
It had taken another three years before she believed her, but that packed plastic bag did finally get put away.
Sage didn’t realize she’d been crying until she felt the droplets spill down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, feeling so silly for letting her emotions get in the way.
She picked up the spoon and tasted the sauce, instantly taken back to that moment her grandmother did the same.
The front door opened, and Noah called out, saying he was home.
“Damn, something smells good.” He came into the kitchen, and she held out the spoon for him to taste.
“What do you think?”
He took the spoon and groaned. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“My grandmother would have said no dessert for you.”
“Your grandmother sounds like one strict lady,” he said.
Sage laughed. “She wasn’t strict at all. She was a sweet lady. I think that’s why my mother got so crazy, you know? She never yelled at my mom. Never told her to stop.”
“How did you end up in the city then?” Noah asked.
“I asked my grandmother why I’d never met her, and she told me it was my granddad. He was so angry at all the trouble my mom kept on bringing to his doorstep, and he was the one who chased her out of town. Whenever my mom called up though, she would still get money out of my grandmother.” Sage shook her head. “Enough about the past. You know all about mine. What about you?”