Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 58600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Alex,” Cat says. “Elliot is home from his friend’s. He told me he took a tumble on his bike and said he wasn’t hurt. But now he’s having trouble closing his fist. I think maybe something is wrong?”
“Thanks for calling, Cat,” I say, relieved that Damien isn’t the problem. “Take him to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.”
“The hospital?” Tori says once I’ve hung up, sounding strangled with fear. “Oh, God. What’s happened? Is he going to be okay?”
Her concern touches me. “Hey, relax. He just fell off his bike, that’s all. It sounds like he might’ve fractured something.”
“Oh.” She lets out a trembling breath.
“It’s sweet, Tori,” I say, standing and offering my hand. “How much you care about him.”
CHAPTER 23
TORI
“Would you mind going and sitting with Elliot?” Alex asks when we arrive. “I’ll tell Cat she can head home for the evening… and go and see if any nurses are available.”
“Sure,” I say, walking to where Elliot and Cat sit. “Cat, I think Alex wants to talk with you.”
“Hey, Tori,” Elliot says, gently holding his injured arm.
“Hey, little man. What happened?”
He rolls his eyes, seeming older than ten for a moment, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “I don’t even know. My bike is usually pretty solid. It’s a good bike. I got it for my birthday. Uncle Alex helped me choose it. But the front wheel got all wobbly out of nowhere, and then it buckled, and I went flying over the handlebars. Tori, it’s like, it didn’t even hurt before I got home. How weird is that?”
I look across the hospital’s waiting room at Alex, looking dashing in his suit. “Sometimes things take a while to sink in,” I mutter.
“Like you and Uncle Alex, you mean, huh? I’m not stupid.”
I laugh, ruffling his hair. He giggles, and it feels so normal. Alex looks over at us, a smile instantly reshaping his features. My body is still aching from what we did on the beach. My mind and heart alight by what we said, too.
“How would you feel about that?” I ask carefully.
“He smiles a lot more when you’re around,” Elliot says. “I think you and him are neat.”
“Neat,” I mutter.
I know he means neat, as in cool. But I can’t help but think of the other meaning. Orderly, logical, something that makes sense. I’m not so sure we qualify as that.
Soon, Alex joins us, leaning down and hugging Elliot. “What happened, little man?”
Elliot explains about the bike.
“Hmm,” Alex says. “That’s odd. I went over everything on the bike just last week.”
“The wheel was really loose,” Elliot says.
“Where did you keep the bike last night?”
“On the beach,” Elliot says with a guilty shrug. “Why, Uncle Alex?”
“It’s… nothing.”
Alex looks at me over the top of Elliot’s head, suspicion in his eyes. Is he thinking that the Kents had something to do with this?
“We shouldn’t have to wait too long,” Alex says.
“Aren’t you the boss, Uncle Alex?” Elliot says.
“So what? I should cut the line, push to the front, even if somebody else needs to be seen more urgently than we do?”
“No, Uncle Alex,” Elliot replies.
“Good answer, kid. Just because we have money and status doesn’t mean we get to treat other people as lesser.”
“I know,” Elliot says with a sigh.
“How’s the pain?” Alex asks.
Elliot sits up straighter. “I can handle it.”
“You’re being very brave,” I tell him.
Elliot beams at me. “Thanks.”
“Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest family.”
We look up at the woman’s voice. She’s elderly, but stylish, her hair colored to perfection, wearing cream chinos and a sweater vest to match.
“I’m sorry,” she goes on. “I couldn’t help but overhear. Your little family reminds me of mine. They’ve all flown the coop now, of course.”
“We’re not—” I begin, but Elliot cuts in.
“Thank you, miss. They’re the best Mom and Dad ever.” Elliot looks up at me with a grin, his expression one of pure playfulness.
“That’s very nice of you to say, son,” Alex says.
Oh, so that’s how it is. It’s two against one.
“Nice?” The elderly woman beams. “That’s an understatement, young man. Being called the best by your child… there are no words to describe what an honor that is. It goes far beyond nice.”
“You’re right,” I say. “I take pride in being a mother, but I don’t think I’m the best.”
The elderly woman smiles, looking at me and then Alex. Maybe she’s wondering how old I was when I ‘gave birth’ to Elliot. If she thinks I’m in my late twenties and that Elliot is slightly younger than he is, then the timelines match.
“I won’t ask you the trick question, though,” she says, looking at Elliot, a wicked grin on her face.
“What’s the trick question?”
“Elliot…” I stroke my hand through his hair, shocked by how natural it feels. When he looks at me with bright eyes, I almost regret it.