Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me, because he refused to use any video-calling feature. “Yeah, sorry about that, but I’ve been dealing with some things.”
“Things you couldn’t talk to your family about? What kinds of things?”
“Polyps. On my vocal cords, both of them.” Even saying the words out loud made my stomach hurt, but it grew easier with every syllable. “They aren’t cancerous, which is a relief, but I will need surgery.” I told him all about the surgery and the silent recovery time.
“Is that all? Boy, I had a bout of the clap after a threesome with your grandmother, rest her soul, in our younger days that took longer to heal than that.” He let out a loud, guffawing laugh while I shuddered in disgust.
“Uh, thanks for the advice, I guess. But what if my voice isn’t the same, Granddaddy?” There it was, my real fear—that my voice might not be completely gone, just different. Unrecognizable.
“If it’s not the same, you’ll find a way to make that new voice work for you. I have a better question—what if your voice is even better than it was before? What will you do then?”
“You always ask the tough questions, don’t you, old man?”
He laughed again. “They are my specialty.”
“If my voice is better, that would be perfect. Why, do you have an in with the surgeon?”
Granddaddy laughed again, and it was the same loud bark of laughter I’d heard my entire life. “Not with your fancy million-dollar surgeons, but here at the retirement community, there’s a retired ENT, an orthopedic surgeon, and a cute little lady who was a fertility specialist.”
“Can any of them guarantee the worst thing that will happen is that my voice gets better?”
“Sorry, son.”
“It’s fine. How are things at Sunshine Resort?” A few years back, I had convinced him to sell the home he’d shared with my grandmother for more years than I’ve been alive and move into a retirement community with excellent security. It was damn near impossible for the press to get inside, and there was so much for him to do that he didn’t have time to spend all day missing my grandma.
“Going great, actually. Played doubles tennis this morning and ate a steak and egg burrito for breakfast. Going to do some arts and crafts after I’m done with you.”
“Living the life, then?”
“Yeah, thanks to my stubborn grandson who loves to throw his money around.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s the least I can for the man who gave me a normal childhood.”
“Oh, that’s bull and you know it. Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you stop worrying about me. I love it here and once you broke up with that princess, them tabloid idiots forgot all about me. There’s lots to do, plenty of babes, and I have my own space when I need it.”
“Good to hear, Granddaddy. How do you feel about visiting Jackson’s Ridge?” I didn’t mean it, but now that the words were out there, it was exactly what I wanted. Needed.
“Really? Hell yeah, I’d love to come for a visit, maybe nurse you back to health after they poke you with lasers.” There was a beat of silence and then another question. “Where is Jackson’s Ridge again?”
“Coastal Oregon.”
“That big house on the cliff? Oh yeah, count me in!”
“Sounds good. I’ll have Alex sort out a flight for you and a ride to town.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” he said, semi-distracted. “You got a chef? A fitness instructor? One of those at home recording studios? Hell, I’m in either way, but I just wanna brag to Ray and Samson before I get there.”
“You’re ridiculous, GD, and I can’t wait to see your ugly mug.”
“Same goes, my boy. Same goes.”
With Granddaddy around, it wouldn’t be too hard staying quiet and letting him to all the talking.
Suzie
“What in the hell was I thinking? I don’t run, not even when I’m late.” But apparently, eating a giant plate of barbecue nachos the night before didn’t just make me do crazy things like go for a run, but also made me talk to myself. Like a crazy person. It was my own damn fault for ordering the platter that was meant for at least two people—four, if it was being used as an appetizer. And I ate almost all of it.
And washed it down with a bottle of moscato.
Like the animal I was.
“Turn around. Go back. No one knows you’re here,” I told myself out loud, trying to talk some sense into myself.
Running was the most ridiculous exercise on the face of the planet. Who ran for fun? What was fun about being hot and sweaty, aching, and wearing a sports bra? Oh, and that wasn’t even the worst part. No, I decided that if I had to go for a run—which, for the record, I didn’t have to—I might as well have a gorgeous view along the way. So, not only was I hot and sweaty and aching all over, but I was also nearly three miles from home. “That’ll teach me to pig out on my cheat day.”