Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Tears formed, and Hayden batted them away. The urge to run in and wrap Maren in his arms pushed him to his limit. He gripped the railing to hold himself in place, to keep from embarrassing Devorah. He refused to be like Chad. Hayden would put her feelings first.
“I hate you. I hate you. I hate Ester and Rita and you. I hate you so much.”
No child should ever feel this way about their parent, and no parent should ever give their child an excuse to feel this way. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t the run-of-the-mill “Why can’t I go out with my friends tonight?” hatred often spewed by angry teens.
No, this hatred was deep seated, and it had festered for months. All those phone calls between Chad and Maren, filled with broken promises, had finally done their job. Maren now saw her father for what he was: a selfish prick.
The door opened, and the screen door squeaked. “You’d think—” Chad froze when he came face to face with Hayden.
For a minute, neither man said anything. They appraised each other, as if sizing up one another for battle. Hayden would win. He already had when Devorah told Chad to get out.
“You must be Hayden,” Chad said as he looked Hayden up and down.
“Don’t act like you don’t know me.”
Chad lifted his shoulder just barely. “She’ll always think of me. I’ll never be far from her thoughts.”
“Nah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Hayden told him. “The only time she’ll think of you, in any capacity other than you being Maren’s father, is when she’s cleaning dog shit off her shoe. You, on the other hand, will always wonder what she’s up to and how much better off she is without you, and how you did her a favor.”
Chad scoffed but said nothing.
“You should probably go,” Hayden told him. “It’s a long drive back to Chicago, and while you may think that with Crow gone, no one will do anything, think again. The people of Oyster Bay will protect their own. Give them an excuse to run you out of town.”
Chad heaved his bag over his shoulder and shook his head. “She’ll be back,” he said as he walked past Hayden.
“I wouldn’t hold your breath.” Hayden walked toward the door. He waited for Chad to leave before knocking on a door he hadn’t knocked on in a long time.
It swung open, with a frazzled-looking Devorah on the other side. “Why are you knocking?”
Hayden looked from her to the driveway, at Chad’s receding taillights.
“How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” Hayden said as he stood on the other side of the screen. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped—”
“But you did.”
He nodded.
“I should be mad.”
Hayden nodded again.
“But I’m not.” Devorah pushed the door open and welcomed him inside.
“Where’s Maren?”
“Out back,” Dev told him. “She wanted to be alone.”
“I’m sorry,” Hayden said. He touched her hip and left his hand there. “This has been an epically shitty week for you.”
She ran her hands through her hair and walked toward the kitchen. “Do you want something to eat? I didn’t eat at the wake and left the second I could. I think Colt’s still there, being the dutiful son and all.”
“I’m not sure there are rules when it comes to wakes and how long you need to stay.”
“Chad—” Devorah groaned. “His presence at a time like this . . .” She shook her head. “He made my father’s funeral all about him and how he had to take time off from work to come and how he couldn’t get a flight out, so he drove the fifteen hours to be here. Let’s not forget there are no hotels in the area and no room at any of the inns, so he had no choice but to stay here.” Devorah sat in one of the chairs and rested her head in her hands.
Hayden went to the refrigerator and pulled out a casserole dish of lasagna. He plated three squares, heated them up, and set them on the table, one in front of Devorah, and then he went out back to see Maren.
She was in the middle of the tire, resting on her belly, still wearing the dress she’d worn to her grandfather’s funeral. She held a stick in her hand and was drawing lines in the dirt while her pretty dress shoes moved her and the tire swing back and forth. Cordelia couldn’t take her eyes off the stick, waiting for her friend to throw it.
Hayden leaned against the tree. He had a million things to say, but none of them sounded right. So he started with what he knew. “I was about your age when my grandma died. She was like my best friend. I’d go to her house after school, and she’d always make me cookies. Sometimes, when she had a Crafty Cathy meeting and my parents weren’t home yet, she’d take me, and all those ladies would fuss over me. We’d always go to the park or do the grocery shopping together. I spent a lot of time with her, and then one day when I get to her house, she’s not there. My dad is, and he tells me my grandma died. I didn’t get to say goodbye or tell her I loved her. She was just gone.”