Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 64419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“So, do you think you’ll be able to handle being a driver?” he asked, opening his own lunch.
I grinned, thinking about all the downtime. “Yeah.”
“And you’ve met some of the guys?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you think of the place?” He settled back, watching me eat, his burger untouched.
I shrugged, giving him my honest opinion. “It’s big.”
Dad chuckled. “When the Wellers retired and I bought it from them, I wasn’t sure. Biggest purchase I’d ever made in my life.” He picked up his sandwich. “I think it was a good bet.”
“There’s a lot of construction in the mountains,” I said before I could stop myself. If I wasn’t careful, I would find myself in a full-blown conversation.
He chewed thoughtfully. “Good for business.”
I grunted in assent.
We finished lunch without addressing the elephant in the room. He never asked why I left, and I never confronted him about pushing me away. He didn’t pry about the war, and I didn’t educate him. Some things were better left unsaid.
“If you need anything…” Dad concluded after we had finished our meals.
I shook my head. I didn’t need anything from him, aside from the job. It was humbling to have to work for my parent, and I didn’t want to fall any further in debt. I wasn’t going to be like Danny, milking the clock. I was going to pull my own weight and keep busy. If I was known as the boss’s son, I wasn’t going to give anyone any reason to talk about me. And I was going to earn my keep.
“Have you been by to see Gina?” Dad asked as I stood up.
“I have to get back to work,” I said.
“Okay, well…” He lingered, obviously not wanting to part ways. “Thanks for lunch.”
I frowned. He had been the one to pay for lunch. Why was he thanking me? Parents were so backwards. I still couldn’t figure out why it was better to eat with someone you were estranged from, rather than sitting alone. At least alone, you weren’t forced to come up with conversational topics.
I headed into the afternoon favoring my good leg. The whole way to the tool shop, I wished I had brought my cane. So what if people saw me limping? It would beat having to endure the pain. But I had been a fool that morning and thought I knew better than all the doctors at the VA. I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
Danny was in the break room, tapping his phone. Henry was out on another delivery. I helped with one more run before it was time to meet Allison and complete my paperwork. It looked as if they had enough work for one and a half drivers but were paying for two already. I wished I wasn’t lame, and I could help out where it was really needed, hauling and cutting the wood. But this was the hand life had dealt me, and I reminded myself I needed to be grateful to have a job.
Aly wasn’t in the office when I got back. I sank into the couch to wait, feeling exhausted. The pain in my leg had taken its toll. Even though I hadn’t done much other than walk back and forth across the lot, my entire body was struggling to maintain momentum. If I was a “glass is half full” kind of guy, I might have thought I would sleep well at night, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. It was going to be a rough week until I adjusted to the added workload.
A tread on the stairs alerted me to movement and I tensed. It was only Aly, returning to her desk. She took one look at me and smiled affectionately. “Tough day?”
I shook my head. “It shouldn’t be. I don’t feel like I did very much.”
“Give yourself time,” she said. It was the kind of thing a nurse or a good friend might say. It meant that she knew all about injuries and the rush to heal. I wondered what had happened in her life and hoped that it hadn’t been anything bad.
“I’m here for the paperwork,” I said.
“Right.” She went to one of the filing cabinets and crouched to reach the lowest drawer.
She was wearing a skirt that a moment ago had seemed chaste, but when she curled her legs, the fabric tightened against her skin. I caught the shape of her bottom, round as a peach. Her hair fell over her shoulders, obscuring her face, and for a moment, I forgot she was that shy girl I had gone to school with. She looked every bit the runway model, toned arms thumbing through files, sculpted calves supporting her supple form.
I imagined crossing the distance between us, hauling her to her feet, and pressing her against the filing cabinet. Her body would be a perfect match to mine, soft and warm with all the right curves. Her lips would taste like strawberries and honey, parting just enough to let me explore the heat within.