Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
The woman lowered her phone. “It’s wrecked, honestly. We couldn’t salvage it.”
Eve nodded. “Still. We need it. I’m happy to go get it myself.”
“Out of the trash?”
“Yes.”
“Fitting,” mumbled the teacher as she pushed backward through the bathroom door. Eve’s blood flushed cold, then hot, hating that sickly feeling of embarrassment she spent so much of her life trying to avoid. She wanted to follow the teacher into the hallway and remind her that, sure, she could laugh or run her mouth as much as she wanted when it came to Eve, so long as she treated Lark and Landon with the same love and respect as the other children. Was she? After the woman’s total lack of assistance or empathy, Eve doubted it. Lark and Landon were two more people in her life not getting the treatment they deserved . . . because of her. “Hey,” she blurted, hating the quaver in her voice. “Let’s go get your sister and have a ditch day.”
“What’s a ditch day?”
Eve thought on her feet. “Well, the first order of business is fixing that goddamn hat. Where there’s a will there’s a way.”
“Really?”
“Yup. And . . .” Eve rubbed at her chest. “Maybe, if you’re up for it, we could cook something at home. I know cooking with your mom is special and it won’t be exactly the same, but I can sub in until she gets back.”
The latch on the stall slid open, the door creaking open slowly to reveal the tear-streaked face of her nephew. “We cook meatballs.”
“Okay. Do you want to cook meatballs with me? Or leave meatballs for Mom . . . and make something different with me?”
Thoughts whirred behind his eyes. “Something different, I think.”
“Cool, man. One problem, though.”
“What?”
“I can’t cook. Will you teach me?”
This time, he definitely giggled.
Eve laid an arm across his little shoulders and escorted him toward the door. “My friend Madden is hanging out with me today. Can he help us too?”
Landon looked up at her. “The baseball player?”
“Yes.”
“But he’s a Yankee.”
“We like him despite that.”
“I guess.” Her nephew’s brow furrowed. “Can we play baseball after we cook?”
For some reason, the imagery of that cozy, family-esque scene caused Eve to panic. “Uh, maybe. We can ask him. I don’t know if he has any equipment with him, but . . .”
“Skylar’s house has some,” Landon said.
“That is true.” She squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll see.”
They’d only taken two steps into the hallway when Landon’s teacher came into view, the sodden tatters of his chef’s hat pinched between her thumb and index finger. Landon’s prized possession resembled a paper place mat from Denny’s that had been left out in a hurricane.
“Shit,” Eve muttered, before forcing a smile onto her face as the teacher handed her the chef’s hat she’d unwisely promised to repair. “Just needs a little spit shine, right, Landon?”
He threw up a fist. “Right!”
“I’m needed back in class,” said the teacher, her expression pinched. “Landon, do you want to head back with me?”
“Nope,” her nephew responded. “We’re ditching.”
“Well”—Eve held back a laugh—“I just remembered he has a doctor’s appointment . . .”
Landon’s face fell. “I do?”
Eve put her hand over his mouth and ushered him toward the attendance office. “Lark has one too,” she called over her shoulder to the now openly scowling teacher. “If you could send her out, please?”
Ten minutes later, her niece and nephew skipped alongside Eve toward the parking lot. While she had waited for Lark to join them in the attendance office and signed out both kids for the afternoon, she’d shot off a quick text to Madden to let him know plans had changed.
The kids came first, and Eve sensed they needed a diversion. Some spontaneous fun.
Now she could see the outline of Madden through the windshield of his truck and the sight was so welcome, the pulses in her neck and fingertips fluttered, the sun above extra warm because he’d be sharing it with her, with them—
A man strode past on the sidewalk and did a double take. So did Eve. Because she knew this man. Steve Kirk. One of her tormentors from high school. And one of the only people who could shrink her down to the size of a flea. Was he a teacher here? Or had he come to pick up his kid early, same as her? Just passing by?
“Eve Keller. Is that you?”
She winced but kept walking, hoping and praying he would see the kids and leave her alone. “Hi, Steve.”
“You never rescheduled your performance. I keep checking the website.”
Eve shrugged, her skin starting to pipe hot.
Ahead of her, the car door opened and Madden got out, standing to his full height, his narrowing gaze trained on Steve, causing memories from high school to come rushing back in rapid order. This was not good. In fact, considering the kids were present and they were outside an elementary school, a potential confrontation was a terrible possibility. Steve, however, didn’t notice Madden’s presence. Which is probably why he continued to run his mouth.