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)
“I do too,” I say, watching Hendrix now being recruited to help build a sandcastle.
My father’s deep chuckle forces me to give him my full attention.
“What?” I ask, frowning. “What’s that look for?”
“Like her?” he scoffs. “Come on, son. We both know you more than like her.”
Since it’s useless to deny it, I figure I may as well spill it and get my father’s advice.
“I’ve never felt like this,” I confess, keeping my voice low and one eye on Hendrix in case she wraps up with the mom and kid.
“Like what?” My dad turns to me, powerful arms folded over his chest and one brow piqued.
“Like… when I met LaTanya, I was attracted to her, sure. Liked her a lot and we made Tamia, the most perfect human ever, obviously, but I never told her I loved her.”
“You talked to my grandbaby? Haven’t heard from Tamia in two weeks. Got over to Ghana and acting all grown.”
“Pop, focus, and she’s fine. We texted yesterday. So, like I was saying, I’ve been in plenty of relationships, the most serious of which, of course, was Zere.”
“How’s she doing? Does she know about Hendrix yet?”
“Yes, and it did not go well.” I bend to scoop up a shell, tracing its ridges.
“Not surprised,” my father says with a sigh. “That woman loved you. She thought you were the one. I coulda told her it wouldn’t last.”
“Why do you say that?” I frown, though I agree.
“You saw yourself marrying Zere?” Pop asks, genuine surprise etched into his features.
“No, but I wasn’t thinking When is this going to be over?”
“That’s not love.” Pop shakes his head and angles an assessing look at me. “Matter of fact, I think if you had loved Zere, you would have compromised on the baby thing.”
“Nah. I’ve known for a long time I didn’t want another kid. The time and attention and focus you should give a young child, I don’t have that anymore. Fatherhood is not something you half-ass.”
I catch Hendrix’s eye and she gives me a discreetly exasperated look that says This woman won’t let me go.
“What if Hendrix said she wanted kids?” Pop asks.
My heart sputters instead of beats. The blood sloshes in my veins and then surges like the waves at my feet. It’s one of those moments where you’re presented with a truly clarifying question; one that delineates priorities you didn’t even know you held.
Like when you realize the woman walking toward you, covered in sand and soaked by sun, wearing a smile more breathtaking than the horizon—that woman, her you’d probably do anything to keep.
CHAPTER 37
HENDRIX
This is delicious,” Mr. Bell says around a heaping spoonful of banana pudding. “I haven’t had this in years.”
“It’s the easiest thing to make.” I shrug and take a seat at the kitchen table with him, glad to have company while Maverick is in his office for yet another meeting. I’ve never met anyone who works harder. “I’m not much of a cook, which is ironic since my mom used to own a bakery.”
He chews and eyes me thoughtfully. “I heard she has Alzheimer’s. How’s she doing?”
I love the way he doesn’t tiptoe around uncomfortable topics. Over the last week, it’s become one of my favorite things about Maverick’s father. He’s blunt like life is too short for bullshit and babying. Maverick must get that from his daddy.
“She does.” I scoop up some of the dessert. “She’s fine. Not getting worse or better, I guess. I go home a lot, but it’s not the same as living in the house every day.”
“Very different. I suppose Mav told you his grandfather lived with us for a while.”
“Yeah. He said it was tough.”
“On us all, but on my wife more than anyone. He got paranoid at one point and thought she was trying to poison his food. He refused to eat.” He shakes his head and draws his brows together. “Had to be hospitalized and tube fed.”
He glances up, alarm and contrition on his face. “I don’t mean to scare you about… well, about your mother. I’m sorry.”
“We’re past that,” I say, offering a rueful smile. “I know what this is. Actually, every time I think I know what this is, it becomes something else. Usually something worse, so you’re not scaring me.”
“Priscilla kept him at home until it was obvious he needed more than she could do on her own.”
“Those are such tough decisions.” I sigh and trace the pattern in the wood of the kitchen table. “We’ll have to make more of those eventually.”
“You’re staying there for how long while your aunt recovers?”
“Six weeks.”
“You ready for that?”
I sigh, my stomach churning so much I set the dessert aside. I don’t like acknowledging my anxiety about being with my mother. She’s taken care of me so well my whole life, sacrificed for me without question or thought. I don’t want to fail her now that it’s my turn to take care of her.