Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37047 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37047 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Yes, thanks.” Of course, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that, especially when I saw how Darla-Sue’s face puckered like she’d smelled something awful. So when he came to the table with my cup of coffee, I smiled and said, “you remembered how I like my coffee.”
“I’m sure my dad doesn’t know you well enough to know how you like your coffee or even care.”
“It’s obvious that I do,” Gregory answered her nonchalantly. I was almost certain of what was coming—I’ve been fanning the flames all weekend without appearing to.
Even this morning in the shower after he’d finished doing me, I’d brought up how I should sneak out and go home before anyone saw me here, how I didn’t want to cause trouble between him and his daughter. He’d mumbled something about it being his house and people needing to learn respect, and I’d left it there.
I knew just how to push her buttons to get the best results and went for it. “Shh, don’t scold her. It’s obvious she’s still upset.” I pretended to lower my voice but was, in fact, speaking just loud enough for her to hear. “You bitch, I don’t need you to stick up for me.” She jumped up from her chair in a huff.
“Darla, calm down; how dare you speak like that to my guest?”
“She’s not a guest; she’s some stray bitch I brought home.”
“Darla-Sue, that’s enough, now apologize.”
“Oh, that’s alright, she doesn’t have to. Why don’t I just leave? I can call a cab to take me to work.”
“Yes, why don’t you do that and stay away.” I got up as if to leave, but Gregory grabbed my arm and held me back. “You’re not going anywhere.” He turned back to talk to her, and I was barely in time to put myself in front of him when she flung the contents of her coffee cup in my face. My mind flashed back to another time, and I screamed before I could hold it in.
The sound of my scream must’ve scared Gregory into thinking it was the coffee when in truth, it wasn’t as hot as it could’ve been had there not been cream added to it. “Get out!” I’d never heard him sound quite like that before, and apparently, neither did she.
“Daddy!” She started to approach him, but he wasn’t having it.
“Get the hell out of my house now.”
She ran from the room, and the front door slammed. He knelt beside my chair and studied my face. “Come on, baby, let me see.” I turned my red face towards him. The redness was helped by my hand when he wasn’t looking, just for effect, mind you. There’s no point in wasting a good cup of coffee to the face and right in front of my captive audience to boot.
“Oh sweetie, we should get that looked at.”
“I don’t think so; just a wet cloth should do the trick.”
“Are you sure?” He got to his feet and went to grab one from a closet that was downstairs. He held the cool soothing cloth against my cheek, his face full of worry.
“I don’t know, are you sure…. forget it. Let’s go.” I barely had time to grab my bag and slip my feet into my shoes before I was being dragged outside to his car. He never stopped holding my hand, not even when we left the car and walked into the building, which housed the offices of one of his friends, who happened to be a doctor.
He hovered, he complained, he fussed when the doctor told him that my face was fine, and I didn’t need some kind of elective surgery. At work, he refused to let me go to my office and made space in his for me instead. He babied, he cossetted, he apologized a thousand times, and each time I sucked it all up like a sponge.
“I wish you wouldn’t wear this; I miss seeing your hair.” He touched the wig I’d talked him into letting me wear once we left the coast. “I’m more comfortable with it; I told you about my trauma.”
“Actually, no, you haven’t, you’ve hinted at it a time or two, but you never said what it was exactly.”
“Oh, well, I don’t like dredging up those memories; maybe one day I’ll share.”
Yes, I’ll tell you all about how your wife and daughter gave me chemical burns because they were so jealous of my hair. I hadn’t known that that was the reason for the attack, not until he told me in the last few days of his first love who’d had hair like mine. Apparently, he was all set to marry her before tragedy struck when they were still teens, and she died.
He's been carrying around a picture of her in his wallet since then, and it’s something his wife had never come to terms with. Even though, as an adult, he’d come to realize that the love he had for his dead friend had been more along the lines of a sibling than a love interest.