Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
No doubt, he shouted or threatened to dock her pay if she made too much of a fuss.
She swipes at a stray tear. “I shouldn’t have listened to him.”
“Hey, let’s not play the blame game, or I’ll start too about not coming into town more often. As it was, he wouldn’t take most of my calls.”
It was just as well because every time we talked, he would ask me if I’d made it big yet, in a way that caused me to feel foolish and inadequate. It was his way of disagreeing with my life choices, but that was always the case.
She nods. “He became more and more secluded, cranky, and didn’t want to be bothered. Asked me to keep in contact with you.”
She lifts a small statue of an angel from the box and gazes at it with fondness. Obviously, remembering one thing or another.
“Feel free to take what you want. Unless he discussed his final wishes with you?”
“He did,” she admits, and my heart clenches. “He wanted you to have the house and do whatever you liked with it—though he figured you’d sell it. The boat too.”
“The boat?” He’d bought it for personal use and fishing competitions. I loved spending time on that boat. “He kept it?”
“It’s in storage.”
“Where?”
“Same place. Near the docks.”
“Okay, I’ll take a look.” I meet her gaze. “And what about for you?”
“Me? I was only his employee.” She waves me off. “Sure, he made promises to pass on this or that, but I think that was the beginnings of his dementia talking.”
“Or maybe it wasn’t. You were with him for years. It’s obvious you’d grown close. I’m sorry for your loss too.”
“I…thank you. I’ll miss the old grouch, but I’ll find employment again.”
“I can be a reference since you worked for my grandfather for so long,” I tell her, and she nods appreciatively.
“Did he mention what he wanted to do with his ashes?”
“He had explicit instructions,” she replies, setting down the statue. “No ceremony. Only someone in charge of spreading them in the ocean—using his boat.”
Makes sense. My grandfather loved the water. Missed it.
I feel a lump in my throat the whole time we work on clearing out the stacks of magazines and newspapers. A couple of front pages catch my eye—historical times in our country, then more local headlines, like the year of the tsunami and the frogs falling from the trees. I smile at that memory because it’s ridiculous. None of my LA friends would believe that story.
I use the term friends loosely. There’s my current roommate and his fiancée, and I’ve formed connections in the restaurant and movie business. We hang out after work or between auditions, but none of it feels like the deep tie I have to John or his family. When his parents and brother-in-law died in the boating accident, I returned to show my support—and grieve too.
Since that last time, I haven’t brought up the divorce. It hasn’t seemed important, not unless one of us got serious about someone else, and so far, that hasn’t happened. Sure, I get my needs met with men and women when I’m in the mood for a hookup. Though it’s definitely not the first thing on my mind. John and I agree that a legal separation means we’re free to explore or date, but whenever I think about him with someone else, I feel sick to my stomach.
It’s fucked up but not fair of me, and I can’t help thinking I’m holding him back. That’s the other reason I brought along the divorce papers. I want to set him free like he did me so many years ago.
5
JOHN
“Doing okay, Johnny?” June plops down on a barstool. She just got off work at the Tie-Dye Diner, and between that and her shifts at Honeycomb with our aunt Dina, I don’t know how she always looks so bubbly and refreshed.
She’s always been that way, though, centering our family even during the worst tragedy. She lost her husband, the love of her life, and though she grieved for months, she also had Cain to raise. So she got out of bed and went to work and hasn’t stopped since.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I reply, keeping my lips in a neat, straight line.
She scoffs because she knows I’m full of shit. “You know perfectly well why not. The man you’ve loved your whole life is home for the first time in years.”
“Yeah, he is.” My heart knocks against my chest. “Came into the bar, we talked, and then he went on his way.”
She arches an eyebrow. “You’re acting cool as a cucumber, but I know you’re dying inside.”
“Right?” Jack says right on cue as he walks in with Aaron. “Don’t try to hide it.”
“What am I missing?” Aaron asks as he slides in beside Jack and June.