Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 142866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142866 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Don’t put that on yourself. Tell me what happened.”
“I know personalities can change with this condition, but she was mean to my aunt and cursed at her. You just have to know this is the woman who literally has the “Footprints” poem up in like three rooms and once washed my mouth out for calling someone a bitch. I was fourteen and as tall as she was.”
“Who’d you call a bitch?” I tease, knowing it’s not important, but hoping to relieve some of the tension choking the atmosphere.
“My cousin Ellie.” Hendrix breathes out a laugh. “She was a bitch. She put gum in my hair and Mama had to cut it out. It was right before the school dance. Don’t get me started.”
“Oh, you already started,” I say with a chuckle. “So what happened today?”
“I’ve never heard my mother curse, much less at her sister. She called my aunt fat. It was not her.”
“My grandfather used to take it out on my mother a lot, too. She was the one with him the most. It was very intense and hard to manage.”
“I’m sorry. That sounds awful.”
“It’s a lot to handle.”
“And Aunt Geneva has been managing this on her own. I feel guilty, Mav. Conflicted. I can’t live here permanently right now, and my mother refuses to move. I want to honor her wishes as long as I can, but seeing how much this condition has progressed, the house feels like a ticking time bomb.”
“What does your aunt think?” I ask, digging my toes into the sand. “How does she seem to be processing everything?”
“Better than I am. My mom forgot that my father is… gone. That he died.” Hendrix draws a sharp breath. “I watched her relive it and it was terrible. For her, it was happening for the first time.”
“That used to happen with Pop Pop.” I hesitate before going on. “Look, I’m not trying to give you advice or anything.”
“Oh, I’m not proud.” She laughs without humor. “I’ll accept advice.”
“We used to try to correct him, to tell him the truth, to try to keep him straight, but we realized something that changed our perspective.”
“And what was that?”
“This was one time when the truth wasn’t the right thing to do—not for him. If letting him believe a lie brought him any peace at all, it was worth it. A kernel of peace was better than the whole truth.”
She’s quiet for a beat. “You’re right. I read about it. They call it therapeutic fibbing. In the moment, I just forgot and blurted that he was gone. But what good does it do for her to know? She could forget again tomorrow.”
“And even though it’s not the first time she’s heard it, it will feel like the first time every time you try to convince her the worst day of her life actually happened. Maybe she keeps going back to a time when he was still with her because more than anything that’s where she wants to be.”
“Yeah,” Hendrix whispers, sniffs, and draws a sharp breath. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Is she okay?” I drop down to sit on the sand, elbows propped on my knees and the phone pressed to my ear.
“Now she is. I talked to Aunt G a little after she got Mama settled. She said sometimes there’s nothing you can do and you just have to ride it out, but sometimes you can distract them either with an activity or a different memory.”
“That’s tough. This is a lot, Hen.”
“I know.” She exhales slowly. “I’m definitely getting into one of the support groups you sent.”
“That’ll be good, and just relax. Carve out some time for yourself. I know you’re busy.”
“Look who’s talking, Mr. Big Time.”
“I work hard and rest harder. I got shit I enjoy outside of work.”
“Like surfing?”
I grin, tasting the salty air and relishing the subtle ocean breeze that makes this property in my portfolio the one where I spend the most time.
“Yeah, like surfing. Been stalking my socials, have you?” I ask, inordinately pleased if she has.
“Black boy surfing,” she teasingly scoffs.
“I could teach you. Lemme get you on a board in my backyard Pacific here in Cali.”
There’s a silence in the wake of my invitation. I didn’t mean it like that, but now that I’ve said it, I can’t shake the image of her under me on a slick board early in the morning, droplets of water beading on her gorgeous radiant brown skin. She would be luminous and lush at sunrise. Should I check my rapidly growing fascination with Hendrix? Hell, yeah. Her proximity to Zere is a problem. Not so much for me, but for Hendrix and her business interests. I won’t, though. I know I’ll keep finding ways to see her. My whole life is a calculus of risk and reward. It’s undeniable that pursuing Hendrix involves risk, but the reward of possibly having something with her outweighs the pitfalls we’d inevitably have to negotiate.