Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
“Yes.” She worried her lip for a moment. “They had a little girl. She’d be…oh, five now, I guess. I tried to keep in touch, but…” She waved her hand through the air, and I took her meaning. He wasn’t interested. He’d washed his hands of this place, and that included the reminders too. Maybe I didn’t blame him. I’d done the same, even if for different reasons. “Anyway,” Mrs. Swanson said, “tell me what you’re doing. Your plans. Where you’re living. You must be on your way somewhere.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. I hated this. Hated asking for help. It made me feel low, worthless. “Well, actually, no… I was sort of hoping you had a job here that I might be cut out for.”
Her face fell. “Oh…oh, Tuck, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “The truth is, we’re barely getting by here. I’m sure you noticed all the changes,” she said, waving her hand in the general direction of what had once been miles of fragrant orange trees. “We’re downsizing, not expanding. To be honest, I’m not sure how much longer we’ll be in business.”
I winced. From what I could tell, Swanson Groves was the very last of its kind. When it closed down, Citrus Row would truly be a thing of the past.
She watched me worriedly for a beat, then two, as I processed what she’d told me. “It’s been hard, I suppose, starting fresh,” she finally said.
“Yeah.” I let out a small, uncomfortable laugh that died a quick death. “I’ve found I’m not qualified for much, and people aren’t real willing to cut a break to an ex-con.”
“Oh, Tuck. You’re so much more than that.”
“Not on paper.”
She sighed, that worry line between her brows growing deeper. Then her head snapped up, eyes widening as she sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t offer you a job here, but I can offer you a job. Or rather, Emily can.”
“Emily?”
She nodded, her sudden enthusiasm obvious as the speed of her words quickened, her voice rising animatedly. “Her career has really taken off, Tuck. She’s just announced a big tour which, oh, I don’t even know all the details because they’re still being worked out, but it’s all so exciting. Anyway, she was just telling me a few nights ago that her manager wants her to hire a security team.” She sat up straighter, her smile growing. “You’ve obviously been working out. You’re fit and strong, and well, let’s be honest, you’d spot trouble before someone who hasn’t had the experiences you’ve had in the last decade. That’s an asset and a well-earned skill. It’s fate that you showed up today. Emily needs you, Tuck.”
I smiled uneasily. Mrs. Swanson was being extremely kind. Emily didn’t need me at all.
I hadn’t seen nor heard from Emily in a long, long time. She’d once been like family to me, even if we’d drifted far apart since then. And I was glad that she was well on her way to forging the life she’d always wanted. But no, she didn’t need me. Not even close.
But… I needed her. Or rather, I needed the job she might have to offer.
“I’ll call her,” Mrs. Swanson went on. “She’ll be thrilled. So relieved. Who better to have her back than someone who knows her personally? Do I have your permission?”
I opened my mouth to ask a few questions…where, and when, and what the hours might be. But then I slowly closed it. Did it matter? Not really. “Yes. Thank you, Mrs. Swanson. I really appreciate it.”
She reached out and squeezed my hand again. “Your mom was my very best friend,” she said, blinking away the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. “We once promised each other that if anything happened to the other, she’d look out for Em and I’d look out for you. I’ve felt so helpless over the past six years, Tuck, and so I’m grateful you came to see me now, and that I’m able to help you get on the track toward happiness. It will happen. More people than you might think believe in second chances.” She stood, discreetly swiping the moisture from her eyes. “Now come help me with dinner. Phil will be home in an hour or so, and then I insist you stay here until you start working for Emily.”
Later that night, after dinner with the Swansons, I excused myself early and headed to the guest room where Mrs. Swanson had put my duffel bag with the few belongings I owned in the world. The guest room had once been Emily’s. It still held the white, wrought iron twin bed she’d slept in, but now featured a pale gray quilt instead of the pink frills I remembered. That had been so long ago though. Maybe her room decor had changed as she had. I wondered who she was now, and if she would seem like a stranger, or a friend.