Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
It looked like we had a trip to the diner ahead of us.
Chapter Twelve
Holly
So.
Confronting Shep went about as badly as I'd imagined.
Fine, worse.
It landed like a bomb, exploding outward, leaving everything in carnage, and both of us full of shrapnel that still hurt hours and hours later.
Worst of all, we'd gotten nowhere. Not with all the arguing and yelling and crying—on my part.
He refused to admit he had a problem.
And he refused to admit he'd screwed up the papers for work. Even though Glen himself had seen the issues.
I'd tossed and turned for hours afterward, leaving me feeling restless and sick to my stomach.
Shep refused to come out of his room.
So, I'd just made him food, sat it at his door, and did my usual day-off routine. I scrubbed the house. I clipped coupons. I hit the grocery store to see how far I could make my money go.
Then I'd put it away.
And slept.
And slept.
And slept.
By the time I got up again, it was another day of physical therapy for Shep. Which was fun. Since he still wasn't speaking to me.
Then, well, it was time for work again.
I was almost thankful to get away for a while, to get out from under the weight of resentment in the house.
So I could go to work where the weight of disappointment over Malcolm's sudden disappearance got to weigh me down instead.
It's not for forever.
It's not for forever.
It'snotforforeverit'snotforforever.
But, God, it was starting to feel like it.
Monday nights were the slowest of the week. There was a little rush around dinner, then everything died down enough to let the intrusive thoughts slip back in.
Luckily, my ribs were close to normal again, which meant I could do a bit more cleaning and stocking than I'd been able to do for a while.
After an hour of that with no tables, I was relieved to see a car pull up. I was even happier to see it was a group of girls.
"Hey girls," I greeted, giving them a smile I didn't quite feel.
They were all around the same age. And they all were stunning in their own ways.
One was blonde with a long and lean body that she had in skinny blue jeans and a flouncy white top.
Another had dark hair with reddish highlights, and seemed to have mixed features that hinted at Asian ancestry, but something else too. She wore black jeans, a dark gray tee, and combat boots.
The final one had deep mauve hair, a nose piercing, and really big earrings in the shape of boobs, but filled with flowers. She wore rust-colored palazzo pants, a white tank, and a crossbody bag with an abundance of hot pink fringe.
"Just the three of you?" I asked, gathering menus I had wiped down every page of.
"We might have one more coming later," the blonde declared. "Can we have a booth?"
"Sure. Go ahead and pick your table," I announced, waving toward them. "Coffee?"
To that, I got a chorus of agreement, but before I could even turn to make them, the girl in the combat boots held up a hand to me. "Hey, this might be prying, but what happened to your eye? If you give me a name, I will give him more of the same."
"Hope!" the faux redhead hissed. As Hope made her way over toward her friends, I could have sworn I heard the redhead say, "That is not part of the plan." But that couldn't have been right. That made no sense.
"Alright, ladies. Can I get you anything other than coffee to drink?" I asked, giving them a smile as I dropped the coffees and bowl of creamers.
"Slow tonight, huh?" the blonde asked, looking around.
"Yeah, Mondays are always like this."
"Are you a night owl?" she asked. "Or do you have, like, class in the daytime?"
"Oh, ah, I actually have to take care of my brother during the day. He was in a motorcycle accident a few months ago. He needs a lot of care." Why was I telling them so much about my life? I never shared any personal details with customers.
"Oh, wow," the redhead said, putting a hand to her chest. "That must be very difficult. Were you with him? Is that how you got hurt?"
"Oh, come on, Billie. You know better than that," Hope declared. "Those are a week or two old injuries, not months."
"Right," Billie agreed, looking over at me. "Do you mind us asking? It's okay if it is too personal."
"I, ah, well it was on the news, so it's not really a secret, I guess. I was taking out the trash here one night. Someone snuck up and attacked me."
"Oh, my God," the blonde said, eyes going wide. "That's horrible. Are you okay?"
"I'm... getting by," I said, shrugging. "It's easier now that my ribs feel better. And, you know, that this eye isn't swollen shut anymore," I said, waving at my face, trying to keep my tone casual.