Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
"Go sit and eat," Hazel says to her, and I can’t stop from looking at her. She stands there with her hip cocked just like I’m standing right now. Her smile is the most beautiful thing in the whole world.
"Later, Uncle Reed,” she says, and I shake my head and try not to laugh.
I wait for her to be out of the room before looking at Hazel. The dark circles under her eyes show me that she didn’t sleep either. “Hey," I say softly.
"Come in," she says, and I step in and close the door behind me. "Um …" She starts to talk, and I hold up my hand.
"Before you say anything, I’m sorry, Hazel,” I say. “There is no excuse for any of my actions."
"I wanted to tell you,” she says, and I can finally see her eyes. The sadness in them, the tears. “But I …"
"I should have answered. That is on me,” I say.
"We have a lot to talk about,” she says, and I just nod my head.
"Will you promise me that you won’t leave?" I ask her, my heart clenching in my chest as if someone is reaching in and squeezing it with all their might. “At least not before we talk things out."
"I don’t know how long we will be here,” she says. “But I promise that if we leave, I’ll tell you beforehand."
I just nod at her. “I’ve got someplace to be,” I say, and she just looks at me. I want to reach my hand up and hold her face. Right before I kiss her lips. “But if it’s okay, I’d like to come back and see Sofia."
"That’s fine,” she says softly.
"Bye, Sofia,” I say, holding my hand up, and she looks up from her plate.
"Bye, Uncle Reed,” she says, and I look at Hazel, who has her eyes closed.
"She has never called anyone uncle before," she tells me. “I don’t even know if she knows what that means."
"Tucker called me that, so she might think that’s my name,” I say, not telling her that by the end of all of this, she is going to be calling me dad.
"See you later," I tell them both and turn to walk out of the house.
Taking my phone out of my pocket, I call my father first, and he answers right away. “Hey, son,” he says.
"Hey, Dad,” I say, looking around and seeing that the fucking property needs to be fixed. "I was wondering if you have a couple of minutes to sit down with me."
"This sounds serious,” he says, and I look back at the door.
"It is,” I say. “Where are you?"
"Headed out to the clubhouse now,” he says.
"I’ll see you there,” I say, hanging up the phone and running home. I get into the truck and make my way over.
The only car in the parking lot is my father's. I get out and walk into the converted barn. The white door closes, and once I walk in, I hear a buzzing noise. I pull the door open and step inside my father’s world. From the looks of it, he looks just like a regular cowboy, but he’s so much more. He’s one of the best computer tech people I know with a massive contract to the military as well as the security measures around the world.
He sits at a desk, leaning back in it with a coffee in his hand. “Now I know it’s serious,” he says to me, and I shake my head. "Also, you look like shit."
"Wow,” I say, putting my hand to my chest. “That hurt." He just shrugs.
"I’m not going to piss on your leg and tell you that it’s raining. You look like trash. Have you slept?" he asks, putting down his cup of coffee, and I look at him. My stomach clenches when I think of telling him about Sofia.
"I’ve had things on my mind,” I say, sitting down and wondering how disappointed he’s going to be in me for not taking responsibility for my child. "I’ve been thinking." My leg is starting to shake when I start talking. “What would you say if I asked you for a job?" I look over at him, and his eyebrows pinch together.
"I would say why?" His eyes look into mine, and I wonder if he can tell how desperate I am.
"I don’t understand." I laugh nervously. "Do you not want me to work for you?"
"Oh, no, you don’t,” he says, shaking his head and grabbing his mug again. “You aren’t turning this around on me." He puts his mug down. “You were dying to get out of this town. Dying,” he says the word again. “And now, all of a sudden, you want to work here." He shakes his head. “That doesn’t jibe." He puts his hands together. “Now let’s start this again. Why do you want to work for me?"