Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
We drifted past people and toward the table of baked goods. I was helping myself to a buttery roll of bread when a girl who looked eerily similar to Pearl approached–if Pearl had a hobby of trying to communicate with the dead and liked heavy metal, that was. The girl came rushing up and gave Pearl a punch on the arm, then a quick but fierce hug.
She had dyed black hair with straight black bangs just above her eyebrows. Her facial features were similar to Pearl’s, but with minor differences I noticed as I got a better look at her. Slightly thinner lips and a more pointed chin with less rounded cheeks. But their eyes were almost identical and they were nearly the exact same height.
“Dean, this is Steph,” Pearl said. She lowered her voice and gave me a significant look. “She knows.”
“What?” I asked.
“Yep,” Steph said. “Not all of us are dumb enough to fall for such a flimsy story. I saw right through it the first time she tried to pass you off on us.”
“You didn’t tell me anyone knew,” I said, feeling slightly irked that Pearl had kept me in the dark on that one.
Pearl looked a little embarrassed. “Well, now we’re all on the same page. Right?”
“Yeah, sure,” I said. It was a small thing, but for some reason I kept turning the idea over in my head. I mean, what was the difference in her telling Steph if I’d told Laney? I guessed it felt different because Pearl’s family was here. Laney, my brothers, and my dad were all hundreds of miles away and not connected to this at all. Meanwhile, Steph was right here.
I kept trying to put the thought from my mind because it seemed like it should hardly matter. Still, there was the faintest crack in my trust. It felt like she’d hidden something from me that I should’ve known before we arrived. I couldn’t help wondering if it was the sort of crack that would widen with time. I guessed it was part of the reason I was better off keeping my distance from relationships. All the dishonesty from past girlfriends had me jumping at shadows in the trust department. Pearl hadn’t done anything wrong, but my brain was so gun-shy it was trying to go into full alert over nothing.
“Are you going to show him to mom and dad? They’re over there.” Steph pointed to a group of people in fold-out chairs near the fire. I spotted the two who must’ve been the mom and dad. Early fifties, I guessed. The dad was handsome and rounded in the belly while the mom was the type of woman who appeared to age gracefully. She looked fit and was sitting with almost perfect posture. I remembered Pearl telling me she’d been a dancer on cruise ships when she was younger, and I thought I could still see the signs of it. There was a younger man and a woman I guessed was his wife sitting with them as well. The man was bearded and muscular and the wife was small and petite with blonde hair.
“In a minute,” Pearl said. I could hear the anxiety in her voice. I put my arm around her waist and pulled her closer, hoping I could radiate a little confidence into her.
Steph watched the gesture with a raised eyebrow. “Wow. So you two really lean into this whole thing a hundred percent, huh? Do you even pretend when the lights are off in your hotel rooms and the doors are closed?”
“Steph,” Pearl warned.
Steph was about to say something more when a little woman even shorter than Steph and Pearl came shuffling up to us. She must’ve been in her eighties, or maybe nineties. She had a perky poof of gray hair surrounding her head, glasses that magnified her watery blue eyes that still shone with bright intelligence, and she was leaning heavily on a cane.
“Grandma Bobo,” Pearl said with a little hesitance. She bent to hug the woman, who stared up at me over her shoulder.
“So this is him?” she asked. She shuffled closer and actually jabbed at my foot with her cane. She looked up at me and ran her tongue over quivering lips. “Big fella, aren’t you? Bet your seed is strong. Big grandkids. Mhm.”
“Uhh,” Pearl said. “Grandma Bobo, that’s not super appropriate.”
“Appropriate?” the little woman snapped. “I’ll tell you about what is appropriate. Try the Cuban Missile Crisis ruining my school dance. You know I was supposed to go with Bobby Wagner? Everybody said Bobby was hung like a horse, too. And instead his family made them stay in their backyard bomb shelter all evening!”
“Grandma Bobo,” Steph said. “Tell us more about how well hung Bobby was. Pearl would like to learn more about that.”