Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
She turns, and I can see the worry on her face now. “Is everything all right?”
I nod. “Yes, everything is fine, Mom. I just wanted to talk to you guys.” Her hand comes up to close the top of her robe, and I can see her fisting her hand so tight her knuckles are going to turn white soon.
“Oh,” she says, and my father walks past me and heads to the coffee machine. “Okay.” She pretends that she’s fine. I walk over to the coffee machine and make myself coffee. Meanwhile, my father tries to pretend nothing is happening as he goes about making himself two pieces of toast, and my mother goes to the fridge to grab her tub of yogurt and granola that she usually has for breakfast. “I have fruit already cut up.” She puts the fruit down on the counter as my father butters his toast and looks over at her.
“I’ll have some of that,” I say to try to get her to relax, knowing what I’m going to tell her is probably going to kill her. Also knowing I have no choice but to do what I need to do.
It takes about ten minutes for us to all sit at the table in the kitchen. My mother nervously eats the parfait she created even though she barely puts anything on her spoon. “Okay, so what is this meeting about?” She finally gives in, not willing to have another minute go by.
I pick up my cup of coffee to take a sip, since my mouth feels suddenly dry. “There are a couple of things, actually,” I say, putting my mug down. “The first thing is, which is kind of the biggest thing.” I take a deep inhale before I say the word. “I’m going to be moving.” The minute I say the words, the gasp from my mother fills the room and I look over to see her holding her chest, like she was just stabbed in the heart. “I think it’s a good idea to just get away for a little while.” I try to soften the blow, but my father reaches out and puts his hand on top of my mother’s.
“That sounds like it will do you good,” my father responds, and I look over at him, not able to gauge his look at me. “Where do you think you’ll be going?”
“I bought a house in Montgavin,” I state, and now it’s my father’s turn to look shocked.
“You bought a house?” He sits up straight. “Without consulting us?”
“It’s a fixer-upper house, and I got it for under market price. I had someone go out there and do an evaluation before I even signed the papers.” His eyebrows go up since I would have normally gone to him for all of this, but I couldn’t this time. “It happened really fast.” At least that is the truth; it really did snowball. The offer was accepted in twenty-five minutes without a counter. The house was in a trust from their grandparents, and ten people wanted the sale to close. None of them wanted the house.
“A fixer-upper.” He shakes his head. “Do you know how much work that is going to be and going to cost? You didn’t even think about it for even one second, you flew by the seat of your pants, and then in a month or two, you will regret it, and then what?” His voice goes higher as the sentence goes on.
I try not to let his words sting. “Then I’ll have a house I can turn around and sell for profit.” I leave out that I will have to wait for the construction to be finished before I do all this, but he doesn’t need to know all the details. I don’t think he would be too happy about it anyway.
“What are you going to do about the house you have here?” He lets go of my mother’s hand to put his on the table, and I can see his index finger tapping the table nervously.
“I haven’t decided, to be honest,” I tell him. They bought me that house as a graduation present. Both of them making sure that everything was perfect before handing me the brown box with the keys tied to a white ribbon.
“For now, it’ll just sit there, and I can always come and spend half the time here when I—” I stop, not ready to say the rest just yet. Needing to have a little bit more courage for that. I suddenly wish I had taken maybe a shot of tequila before coming here.
“At least you’ll have Lilah there for you,” my mother offers softly. “She’s always been such a good friend to you.”
“She has, and it’s about twenty minutes from her, so that will be fun. Especially with the baby on the way,” I agree, picking up my coffee again when my mouth feels like it’s getting dry. I brace for the impact of my next words.