Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
That was the first time the idea of being a mother felt like anything more than an obligation, and instead felt like an adventure, one that I wanted to embark on, not just an inevitability.
“Well, we haven’t talked about it. I know he loves me, but I don’t know what he is or isn’t looking for yet. So I will probably get a place on my own. I could sell some things to afford rent or maybe a down payment. I’m sure I could find work and make modest rent payments.”
Homing in on my expectations made my heart ache, but before I let everything out in the open with Luc, I needed to make sure Reid and I were on the same page.
I wasn’t going to have my brother demonize Reid because I’d misunderstood something.
“There is no way he’s letting you get a place of your own,” Luc interrupted my thoughts. “Especially not having come so close to losing you. Assume you will be living with Reid off of the money he makes and what he can provide for you. It’s not the life that you’re used to. How are you going to cope with that?”
“With grace and incredible, though less expensive, style,” I said, giving him a wink.
“That’s my girl,” a chipper voice came from the doorway, and Ginnie walked in, holding a large arrangement of colorful flowers. They were beautiful and a stark contrast to the other bouquets that were all white. Nothing but a sea of white roses and lilies.
“Who are you?” Luc asked, looking Ginnie up and down.
“I am the other musician who was lucky enough not to be standing next to a massive dick, who ironically probably had a tiny dick, during the attack.”
Luc’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Then he looked at me in confusion.
“Luc, this is Ginnie. She and I play together. Ginnie, this is my brother.”
“Nice to meet you,” Luc said, getting to his feet and offering his hand for her to shake.
Instead, Ginnie handed him the bouquet of flowers and told him to find somewhere to put them as she looked around the room at all of the gifts from well-wishers and distant family.
“Put them somewhere I can see them, please,” I asked Luc, who took the bouquet and gave me a single nod before trying to figure out what to do.
Ginnie quickly stole his seat. “So I can’t stay long. I got another gig pretty soon, but I wanted to come and check up on you and see how you were doing and if there were any developments about that one thing that we talked about?”
“There have been a few developments,” I confirmed. “But nothing has been absolutely decided yet.”
“Ginnie, can you please help me convince my sister that there is no glamor in being a starving artist? And that she won’t be able to survive New York City without the lifestyle she was born into,” Luc said from across the room.
“I’ll survive in the same way every other woman does. I will work. There are jobs I can get. I can try to work my cello, and I don’t care if I have to bag groceries. I will figure out something—”
“You don’t know how to buy groceries, let alone bag them. People who lose the kind of wealth we have generally don’t live happier lives in a lower economic class.”
“No, I suppose people who lose wealth are often miserable. But I wouldn’t be losing anything. I am willing to give up the wealth and choose a different kind of happiness.”
“Are you sure?” Luc asked.
Ginnie held my hand with an amused smile on her lips as she watched the back and forth between me and Luc.
“Of course she’s sure,” Olivia said, traipsing into the room. “Look at that glow. It’s not all just the morphine. She’s in love.”
My cheeks heated at the comment, but I couldn’t help the smile that graced my lips. She was right.
“She’ll be fine,” Ginnie said patting the back of my hand. “Giving up a life of wealth and convenience is not easy. But if it’s for the right reasons, then it can make life so much sweeter. Personally, I would rather live like a pauper and have my freedom than be surrounded by wealth but in a cage.”
“And how would you know?” Luc asked, not unkindly.
“Ginnie Kristiansen.” She smiled, reaching out her hand for Luc to shake. “Of the Nantucket Kristiansens.”
“The one who ran away to some satanic cult?” Olivia’s eyes widened in confusion.
“Yes, except it was a heavy metal band. But my family considers it to be the same thing.” Ginnie gave Olivia a wink.
I laughed at the bewildered look on Luc’s face as he took her hand and shook it.
“Well, you should have bought her a can opener for the baked beans and Spaghettios she’ll be eating, instead of these flowers,” remarked Luc.