Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“I’m from Philly. I moved here for college because it’s my father’s alma mater,” he said, and now the picture was crystalizing even further. I could imagine his upper-crust parents sending him off. I would even bet he was working toward some very important degree—maybe business or the sciences. Definitely not the arts, even though he’d probably excel there. My gut tightened, hoping his father wasn’t the same type of bastard mine had been.
“Is that how you met Jesse?” Mom asked.
“I actually met him at the coffee shop near the university,” he replied with a tinge of sadness to his voice that he tried to cover with a smile.
Mom must’ve picked up on it too because her gaze softened. “Sounds like you miss him.”
“Suppose I do—and just having a roommate in general. Well, that’s if you get along with them, which Jesse and I did. He’s my best friend, and I’m happy for him. It’s awesome that he moved in with the guy he loves.”
“Looks like we’ll both be empty nesters,” I said with a smirk.
Seth paused in his rambling as he considered the term I’d used, then burst out laughing. Mom did too. “Good one,” Seth mused.
After dinner, Seth and I helped clear the table and load the dishwasher, and then Mom asked if Seth was interested in playing a game of dominoes with us.
“Ma, I’m pretty sure Seth does not want to know how boring we are—”
“Actually, I’d love to. They play dominoes at the center, and I’ve been curious about the rules. If you’re willing to teach me, I’m in.”
Either Seth really didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment, or he really was willing to try anything, even some dumb game we’d played since childhood.
“Yay!” Mom remarked as she pulled the box from the drawer where we kept our games stacked. It had always been our thing, especially when Dad was on a drunken rampage. It grounded us, kept our focus elsewhere while we waited him out.
I reached for another beer, and Seth declined a second one, asking for ice water instead. I’d admit, I liked that he was being mindful, though I wasn’t sure why it mattered. It was true that people who had trouble holding their liquor made me anxious, but it wasn’t like they all turned into mean drunks. No, beer just seemed to amplify my father’s bad traits, so it’d become a hot-button issue for me.
Mom began placing the dominoes facedown in the center of the table while I explained the rules and the aim of the game. Once we started playing, it didn’t take him long to grasp the concept, and then he really got into it, nearly beating me the second round.
“I think someone’s competitive streak might rival your own,” Mom said with a wink.
“Who knew?” I shuffled the dominoes in the center again.
“Oh, it’s game on.” Seeing that determination in Seth’s eyes was amusing…and actually endearing. Maybe the guy was growing on me too.
After the third round, Mom took a bathroom break, and I sat back, stretching my neck.
“So you help run a garage?” Seth asked. He wasn’t looking at me as he spoke, like he was a little nervous and felt weird about asking.
“Yeah, with my friend Tucker. It’s called TJ’s.”
“Ah, I see what you did there. I like the play on names.”
He grinned, and I grinned back, and damn, I could see why Mom liked him because now I liked him too.
“And you own this house,” he said, motioning with his hand.
I thought of his apartment and how luxurious it must be, while this place was… Well, it was mine, and that was all that mattered. I liked having someplace to call home. It was a small and cozy two-bedroom and the furniture was secondhand, but it suited me fine. “Yeah, I know it’s not much, but—”
“I love it,” he said, standing to stretch his legs. Something caught his eye on the bookshelf, and he walked over to a couple of framed photos of Mom and me from childhood. “She talks about you all the time, you know. So proud of you.” There was a wistfulness in his voice, like it really meant something to him to hear a mom speak that way about her son.
Now who was blushing? “Yeah…thanks.”
“It’ll be good for her to have a place of her own—” He stopped abruptly, his gaze snapping to mine. “Sorry, don’t want to misstep. I just…get it, I guess. The need for independence, to stand on your own, even if it’s scary.”
“No, it’s okay.” For some reason, I wanted to hear what he had to say.
“She needs to feel comfortable being by herself again.” That protectiveness arose inside me again, but I tamped it down because he was right. And because it was good for Mom to have friends and confide in them. “I understand that feeling because I do too.”