Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
She shrugs. “I don’t know. But you’re a sucker for eating them.”
“Why?”
“They’re all recipes out of a book he borrowed off Mom. She got it back when I was little and wouldn’t eat my veggies. Like the chocolate cupcakes had zucchini in them. Can you believe that?” she asks. “There’s blended squash, cauliflower, and carrots in the mac and cheese. And the sauce in the pizza bread has pureed spinach mixed in with the tomato.”
“That’s diabolical.”
“Right?”
“Tasted really good though.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “That’s how they got me too. I have to get to school. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hug my pizza bread to my chest. “Okay.”
“Unless I see you tonight.”
“Why would you see me tonight?”
She pauses at the top of the stairs with a sly sort of smile. “Dad was talking about dragging Uncle Con out to the Lighthouse. You know. The place across the street?”
My mouth stays shut.
“After Christmas he was like all cranky and quiet. But now it’s like someone sucked his soul out or something.”
“Is that so?”
“Ugh. He’s been so cringe. Adults behaving all sad and pathetic are the worst.”
“Totally.”
“I am never getting old and dodgy like you.”
I just nod. “Okay. Thanks for that.”
“You know,” she says, cocking her head. “I could maybe give you daily updates. Tell you stuff that’s been said.”
“For the right amount of money?”
“Duh. Of course. Thirty should cover it.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Not sure encouraging you to spy on your family is the right course of action here.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ava would have paid me.”
“Probably.”
“Whatever. Your loss.” And she’s gone, racing off down the stairs.
Shanti mentioned something about a weekly games night at the Lighthouse. Had invited me to join her there tonight. Not that I am going to go. What with him most likely going to be there, it would be weird and awkward. No. Best if I stay home and rewatch Pride and Prejudice again.
Decision made. And I feel good about it. Him sending me food packed full of nutritional goodness may or may not mean something. It’s a whole lot of effort to go to for someone you don’t want to be with. He chose to break up with me. So giving it some time and space is definitely the right thing to do.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“What do you think?” asks Shanti.
We’re standing next to the bar later that night. It would seem I couldn’t stay home after all. What can I say? I am a weak and lovelorn woman dying for the sight of him. And kind of wanting to kick his ass too for breaking my heart, but that’s beside the point.
This is my first official social outing as a single person. Apart from coffee runs, of course. I had no idea the Lighthouse Bar and Grill did such a roaring business during the week. They host a variety of events. Karaoke, trivia, and such. And a charity bar crawl happens the first Saturday of the month when a hundred or so locals do a walking tour of the six bars in town. The order in which the bars are visited and the charity donated to is alternated each time. It sounds great.
“They sure are serious about their Jenga,” I say, taking a sip of soda.
“So serious. You have no idea.” Shanti laughs. “Here we go.”
Joyce, the Jenga judge, blows on her whistle. “We want a nice clean game. No hitting, no hair pulling, and no putting your competition in a headlock.”
Someone in the crowd boos.
“I heard that, Tommy,” says Joyce. “Am I going to have to call your mom and tell her you’ve been misbehaving again?”
A shame-faced middle-aged man answers, “No, ma’am.”
“Just as well.” Joyce blows her whistle again. “As I was saying, play nice or you’re out. Yes, I am looking at you, Emma. I don’t care if she is your sister. There’ll be none of that nonsense this week, young lady.”
A woman around my age sneers and flexes her fingers. The game might be Jenga. But the vibe is pure cage match to the death. I think the person standing on the other side of the giant tower of wooden blocks is mouthing something to her opponent. But I am not at quite the right angle to see what. Given the response from her opposition is to scratch her cheek with her middle finger, whatever she’s saying isn’t complimentary.
“Are you sure I can’t make you something special on the house?” asks the bartender. His name is Billy and, as my mom would say, he is cute as a button with his buzzcut and fade.
“No.” I smile. “Thank you.”
“Give it up,” says Shanti with much disdain. “She’s not interested.”
Billy shrugs. “She might be later.”
Shanti makes gagging noises. “The one downside to living in a small town…no…make that one of the many downsides to living in a small town. Being unable to escape your exes.”