Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Hmm. Yeah. That still sucks.
A shiver works down my spine as if the sun has disappeared and left me in shade. Only there are no clouds today. The sky is as clear and calm as it has ever been. And yet I feel cold suddenly, like maybe someone stepped on my grave.
“Mom, are you scared of dying?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Not really. The way I see it, we’re either stardust to be scattered across the universe and returned to nothing. Or we get to go on and be with the people we’ve loved and lost.”
“That’s a nice way to look at it.”
“Or worm food. There’s that too.”
I just frown.
“Whatever happens to us, wasting energy worrying won’t change a single thing,” she says. “We all have to die someday.”
Despite her making a solid point, my anxiety is still slowly mounting. I can feel it building beneath my skin. Talking about death probably isn’t helpful. Same goes for visiting graveyards. It’s nice to hang out with Mom, though. What I should do is focus on the upcoming sex fest with Alistair. A much brighter topic. But not one I will be sharing with my mother anytime soon.
“Are you going to tell your grandmother and me about the beard rash on your cheek that you didn’t quite manage to cover with concealer?” she asks like she’s reading my mind.
“Shit.” I carefully feel my face. There’s a definite tender patch. “Stupid stubble.”
“But they’re just friends,” she says to Inge. “Friends who kiss, apparently. He’s who you were with last night, right? Or have you met someone else?” Mom doesn’t wait for an answer. Instead telling Grandma’s grave, “Your granddaughter has not been slow about moving on from Josh.”
“Oof. Feel that judgment, Grandma?”
“I just think it wouldn’t hurt to take a while to think through what happened and work out what you want. Rushing into something new with someone different might not be the best course of action.”
She assumes I have time. But I am not getting into all that with her. Good Witch Willow can stay far away from this conversation. And she’s wrong about Alistair and me. We’re not soulmates. If we were, he would have offered me more than orgasms and good company. Not that there’s anything wrong with orgasms and good company. Given the time pressures with my possible upcoming death, it’s really all I have time for anyway.
“I’m not rushing into anything,” I say.
She gives me a long look.
“Believe what you want. But I’ve thought about what’s best and have decided we’re just going to stay friends, Mother.”
“She calls me Mother in that tone of voice when she gets irritated,” says Mom, resting her hand on top of the headstone. “Usually when I’m treading a little too close to the truth. You might recall I used to do a similar thing with you. But I used your name. Inge. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Inge. Stay out of my business, Inge. See? The tone of voice is the same. This is how you can tell that she’s mine.”
I snort. Such a genteel noise.
“Inge always knew what was right. Always had something to say about everything.” Mom’s smile is bittersweet. “Then you were gone, and I would love to have you back so you could stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong just one more time. But such is life. So...it seems like ‘just friends’ covers a lot of situations these days.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “You ever like someone too much?”
“Our hearts can be rampaging idiots at times,” says my very wise mother.
“Our loins aren’t any better.”
Mom laughs. “Loins. You’re not a cut of meat. But no, they’re generally worse. Are you going to be able to keep your heart and loins safe from this man?”
“I doubt it.” I lie down on the green grass beside Grandma’s grave. Just stretch out and close my eyes. Call it a practice run. “How did you know Dad was the one? I know you met him at a dance and dumped the loser you were with. But why him?”
“You’re going to get grass in your hair. And the loser I was with went on to play for the 49ers.” Mom was and is a proud blonde bombshell. She has definitely made people weak in the knees. “But I could talk to your father. He was so creative and knew such interesting things. I’d never met anyone quite like him. We used to talk for hours and hours on the phone. It drove Inge wild that I was tying up the line all the time.”
I just lie there, play dead, and listen.
“You need to challenge each other. Make each other want to be better. But you have to feel safe with each other too,” she says. “Does your prince do that for you?”