Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Saying it out loud had him lifting his back against the seat, feeling like an utter failure. Who spent years working on their goals only to abandon them to the wind?
“Is that all?” she asked, incredulously.
“Isn’t that enough?” Chad asked at the ridiculousness of her question. He propelled himself out of the chair, pacing the length of the small space. “I’ve been golfing since I was four years old. It’s been my whole life since I graduated from college. Y’all dumped so much money into my success so I could follow my dreams.”
“And you did follow your dream, dear. And you’ve paid us back some pretend number you came up with in your head when we insisted you didn’t have to. Chad, you did it. You reached your goals. You always do. You’re unstoppable when something gets inside your head.” Classic Mom. She had a way of easily seeing all the angles to tie them up in a pretty little motivational, supporting bow.
He bet that pissed her counterparts off in the courtroom. It grated on his nerves right now, and she was literally his closest friend.
“You’ve always set almost impossible goals for yourself. You work hard to reach the outcome you want then move on. It’s how you’ve always been since you were a little boy. Remember those cliff divers at the river? We were horrified when you ran headfirst, full steam ahead, and flung your little body off the side of the cliff.”
Of course, he didn’t remember. That happened twenty years ago. He was five years old. The stunt resulted in a broken arm and a goose egg the size of a kiwi on his head, or so the story went. His father had run after him, diving straight into the water, most likely saving Chad’s life. That part of the story was etched into his memory.
“But that’s not all that’s bothering you, is it?” she asked, continuing to read him like a book, getting to the real reason he’d come by today. “Is it Tristan’s offer?”
What? He threw his hands in the air. Of course, she knew about the offer. Their small family was like a small town. They all knew each other’s secrets. The whole reason he kept his private matters so close to his chest.
“No…” Chad hedged. What did it say about him that he hadn’t even considered such a significant offer since it had been given?
That alone showed how fucked in the head he was.
“Do you want me to continue to guess?” she asked. “Those trousers don’t really match the cut of your sweater. Do we need to go shopping? Is that it?”
Her silliness fell over him like a ton of bricks. “Mom. Don’t trivialize this. I think I need serious counseling. Maybe a mental health inpatient stay somewhere. I’m a wreck. It’s…”
His mom’s throaty chuckle drew Chad’s frustrated gaze toward her. If she planned to laugh at him, he could go talk to one of his sisters about his problems. Chloe, in fact. She never gave him a break on anything.
“Babe, I have lived with Reeves men for most of my adult life. I raised children with one. Your grandmother, your nana, has told me things about her experience with your grandfather. I promise, whatever is happening to you is within your ability to control.” She lifted her fork again, preparing another bite as if that bit of advice solved everything. “You only have to be willing to face your problem head on. Reeves men aren’t cowards. Deal with it.”
She took her bite as she winked at him.
What did that even mean?
Maybe he’d been wrong to come here.
“Mom, I gotta go,” Chad finally said, digging in his pocket for his key fob. Besides, these pleated khakis went with everything. What was she even talking about? “This is serious for me. I’ll call you in a few days.”
His mom rose from her seat, going around the table as she came for him. “Let me finish. There’s no one steadier than a Reeves man when he knows himself and knows what he wants.” She reached for his cheeks, keeping him close, staring him directly in the eyes. “Are you drinking too much?”
Whatever she saw on his face made her step back and cross her arms over her chest, contemplating him. She didn’t shy away from the direct question and continued to stare him straight in the eyes, waiting for an answer. The question came from a place of love. His father had a problem with alcohol. Something Chad, Chloe, and Cate watched for in themselves.
Chad let go of an unsteady breath. The rawness of exposure made him cross his arms tightly over his chest, holding himself together. “No, not really. I only have one or two, here and there. Drinking isn’t the problem.”
She nodded. Compassion hinted in her serious expression. “Then who is he?” she asked as if it were a given next option.