Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“You better.”
After a few more kisses, I was out the door and on my way to my house or soon-to-be former house. Though Kenny agreed to meet me at seven, I had doubts he’d show. When we spoke, he’d struggled to follow the conversation, which I assumed meant he was high, so who knew if he’d even remember the day or time. Part of me wanted to contact a realtor, throw up a For Sale sign, and install a camera to catch his reaction.
But, despite everything, I couldn’t do that.
Sometimes, I still saw Kenny as the kid who followed me everywhere and tried to copy everything I did, from wearing my too-big clothes to shaving nonexistent stubble when he was ten. Granted, at fifteen, I didn’t have nearly as much need for daily shaving as I wanted to think, but I’d also been lacking a father figure to tell me what the fuck to do. So had Kenny. The poor kid had me, who was a fucking mess as a teen, trying to take care of our ailing mother, survive school, and make a few pennies where I could while carrying a monster-size chip on my shoulder.
Sometimes it felt inevitable that one of us would have gone the route Kenny did—dropping out of school, partying constantly, and coasting through life as though the word ‘responsibility’ didn’t exist. Until recently, when I’d lie awake at night worrying if he was face down in a ditch somewhere, I’d wonder what would have become of us had our birth order been reversed. If Kenny had been born first, would he be a different man today? Would he be an overly responsible workaholic, serious to the point of grumpy—or so I’ve been called. Giving those thoughts brain power was a waste of time. I’d never get an answer, so why spend my precious few sleeping hours on such nonsense? If I knew that, I’d save myself weeks of unnecessary worry over many topics.
I sighed as I pulled into my childhood home’s driveway, finding the lawn mid-calf height and in dire need of some care. “And Ryder asked why I was going so early,” I mumbled.
I snapped a quick photo of the disastrous yard and shot it off to my boyfriend. Two seconds later, he replied with a text of his own.
If you’d let me go with you like I’d asked, I could have mowed the lawn while you talked with Kenny.
Do you know how to mow the lawn?
I have a degree in engineering. I’m sure I could figure it out.
I laughed out loud in my quiet car. Of course, Ryder had never cut a blade of grass. His family probably had a whole brigade of gardeners for that mansion he’d grown up in.
Love you.
That text had me smiling. Yes, he’d offered—demanded—to join me this evening, but I thought it better to arrive on my own and held firm despite his wicked attempts to change my mind. Ryder had seen Kenny in a variety of moods, so I wasn’t worried about how Kenny would appear to Ryder, but I thought approaching him one-on-one would seem less confrontational. I didn’t want Kenny to feel as though we were ganging up on him. I also didn’t want him to think Ryder had any influence on my decision to sell the house. Of course, he had influence since we couldn’t seem to make an important decision without each other these days. However, the decision ultimately came down to my mother and me. Ryder made it clear he would not attempt to sway my choice beyond reassurances and support, no matter what I chose.
I wasn’t sure how to explain that to Kenny, so it seemed best to handle this on my own. I couldn’t remember the last time my brother and I did anything together, just the two of us. Telling him I wanted to sell the house he lived in didn’t exactly qualify as quality time, but maybe we could share a beer and find some common ground.
Wishful thinking, Alex.
Since when had I become an optimist? Must be Ryder’s influence.
After replying to Ryder that I loved him as well, I grabbed the six-pack I’d picked up at the gas station, exited the car, and went into the house, where I deposited the beer in the refrigerator.
The place wasn’t quite as messy as I’d expected. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if Kenny said he hadn’t slept there since I moved out. That had to be a good thing, right? If he were consistently staying elsewhere, maybe he’d be quick to get on board with selling the house.
In theory, I had an hour until Kenny arrived, plenty of time to get our small yard in decent shape. At least city officials wouldn’t assume we’d abandoned the place if they happened to drive by.