Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Yes, in moderation.”
“Phew. Okay.”
She looked down at the Tupperware and smiled. “This was amazingly thoughtful of you.”
“I tried one earlier just to make sure they didn’t taste like shit.”
Her brow lifted. “And?”
“I don’t know. I can’t tell. They’re not horrible, but…”
“Well, I’ll definitely try one since you went through the effort of making them.”
When she reached for the container, I felt my pulse race a little. That was a new feeling for me—getting nervous about someone trying a recipe I’d made. What was my life coming to?
Aspyn took a bite and closed her eyes to concentrate on the taste. She chewed for a while before she finally said, “They’re not bad!”
“Really? Be honest.”
“They taste like…bananas…and dates…and a hint of plaster.”
“Ouch.” I laughed.
“Seriously, it’s so hard to bake without dairy, flour, and sugar. It’s like a science experiment. I give you a lot of credit for even trying.”
“I shouldn’t give up my day job, right?”
“Probably not.” She took another bite. “But I swear, they’re not bad. In fact, these will be even better warmed in the microwave with coffee in the morning.”
“Or you could toss them in the trash after I leave. I won’t be offended.”
“I won’t.” She smiled.
Taking a long sip of my wine, I leaned back and relaxed into the chair. “This night was certainly unexpected.”
She stared up at the sky. “You’re telling me.”
“It really showed me how different your life is. How much responsibility you have. I mean, I go home, and all I have to do is feed Patrick.”
Aspyn squinted. “Patrick?”
“My dad’s cat. He’s certainly not gonna get his period.”
“Let’s hope not.” She cackled for a long minute, and then wiped her eyes. “God, I needed that laugh. Thank you.”
“It’s good to see you laugh, Aspyn.”
“Sometimes I have to laugh so I don’t cry.” She took another sip of her wine. “Tell me more about Patrick.”
I crossed my legs. “Well… Patrick is a tabby cat with a fat head and no neck. He likes his belly massaged and to rub his asshole on my feet occasionally. He’s pretty good about using the litterbox, but conveniently misses when he’s been neglected. He’s also got agoraphobia.”
She chuckled. “How do you know he’s agoraphobic? Did he tell you?”
“It’s obvious. He doesn’t like to go out. He went ballistic on me when I tried to get him into the crate to take him to the vet the other day.”
“Well, he’s an indoor cat, I assume?”
“Yeah.”
She gestured with her glass. “So, what do you expect? You train him to be inside when it’s convenient for you and then force him out into the world randomly.”
“I guess that’s true.”
She took a bite of her cookie. “How did you finally get him out?”
“I was never able to get him into the crate, because of the negative association he has with it. I have no clue how my father does it. So, I had to go out and buy one of those slings—you know, a baby carrier.”
She cracked up. “He let you put him in that no problem?”
“Yup. He was still shaking and nervous and all that, but he trusted it more than being put in a crate. I think he figured if he was going down, I was going down with him.”
She nodded. “I don’t blame him. Also, I’d pay money to see you carrying him around in that sling. That’s sort of adorable.”
“I’ll send you a photo next time, if it earns me trust points.” I winked.
Aspyn chewed. “Trust points, huh?”
“Yeah. You didn’t know I’m trying to earn those?”
“Well, I’ll give you at least one after what I put you through tonight.”
I fist pumped and mouthed yes.
She sighed. “Anyway, your cat sounds like he has a lot of character. I’ve wanted a cat, but I can’t take on any additional responsibility.”
I wriggled my brows. “You can come over and play with mine.”
She seemed to blush as she finished off the last of the cookie.
When she finally looked over at me again, my eyes lingered on hers. “You know, Kiki is really lucky to have you. If I’d had someone like you growing up, I might not have turned into such a dickhead in high school.”
“You had your dad, though, right?”
“Of course, yeah…and my grandparents. But I wasn’t ever really—I don’t know—nurtured? I was fortunate to have them. I know that. People have it a lot worse than I did. But something was missing.” I shook my head. “I sound like a pussy.”
“Not at all,” she said. “Tell me more about your childhood.”
I took a deep breath in and let it out. “As I’ve alluded to before, my grandparents and father were always working. Dad tried his best, but he was in over his head—not that I needed to be drowned in attention, but there was a lack of affection for sure. Not of love—just affection. It wasn’t their fault…just their nature.”