Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“Oh, then please, tell me what it is. I’m so excited.”
Campbell looks out at the field. “I think you should go to Scranton.”
“Not you too.”
“Well, Mom and Dad think you’re being too quick to dismiss the opportunity, right? Rainn thinks you’re a downright dumbass.”
“Thanks. Thank you so much for bringing him up.”
“The only way to make the right and best decision is to have all the information. So go there with an open mind, and hey, who knows, maybe you’ll get there, love it, and want to stay. Or maybe you were right all along, and it’s not for you. At least then you can tell all three of them you gave it a real shot and were right all along. Even throw in an ‘I told you so’ taunt to Mom and Dad.”
Campbell makes a really good point. Damn him.
“What if …” I bite my tongue.
“What if what?”
What if I do like it there? I don’t let the question past my lips, but the thought alone makes me realize that while I’m ninety-nine percent sure staying here and following my passion is the right choice, it might be a good plan to check out what Healy has to offer. If I don’t, I might always think about what could have been.
Still, when I think about the reality of hockey, the grueling schedule, the weight training, the strain it puts on my body, I know a pro career isn’t for me. If I’m going to take over this farm, I need my body to be in working order. One injury on the ice could jeopardize that.
But if I take Healy up on the offer to at least meet and have a talk with him, it will get Mom, Dad, and Rainn off my back. So I should do it.
Then, if Rainn and I ever get over our egos, he won’t question me staying in Vermont.
“I’ll give Healy a call.”
“Good.” Campbell claps my back. “Then you can call that boyfriend of yours. He looks as miserable as you do, by the way.”
I frown. “When did you see Rainn?”
“Last night. Drove into town and went to his bar.”
I try to hold back a smile. “You know that’s a queer bar, right?”
“All-inclusive, isn’t it? Doesn’t that include straight people?”
“Please tell me some dude hit on you.”
“I wasn’t in there long enough for that. I told Rainn to stop being a dickhead to you and then left.”
I burst out laughing. “Thanks for defending my honor, but clearly, he didn’t get the message.”
“He hasn’t called you?”
“Nope. He texted a half-assed apology saying he’s sorry, but I don’t even know what he’s sorry for.”
Campbell whistles. “Damn.”
“Is this what a relationship is? All anger and resentment?”
“It was a fight. All couples have them.”
“When does it constitute a breakup? We haven’t spoken in days. In gay terms, that’s like a month.”
“Lucky for you, from what I understand, Rainn isn’t gay,” says Campbell, the smart-ass.
I’m not in the mood for it, though, and ignore his attempt at getting me to lighten up. “I think I’m more invested in our relationship than he is, and that’s never a good thing, is it?”
“I … honestly don’t know.”
“Of course you don’t. You’ve been with Christie forever.”
“We’re not perfect. We’ve had fights. She broke up with me when we were eighteen.”
“Really?”
He shrugs. “Because we’ve been together since we were kids, she didn’t know what else was out there, you know? She had to figure out what she wanted, even if that meant taking a break from the one thing she thought was a definite.”
“Wow. Really subtle with the comparisons there, brother.”
“You know I’ll support you in anything you do, and I understand why you’re making the choice you are. We’ve been talking about expanding the farm forever. So go check out what your alternate life would look like and come back home certain.”
“I already am certain.” Why can’t anybody understand that?
“I know, but relationships are also about compromising. If you make the effort, he will too.”
For the first time since I drove away from Rainn, I’m able to let go of the annoyance and anger at him for pushing me away.
“You’re very wisdomous today,” I say.
“Bullshit. I’m always this wisdomous. You just never listen to me.”
“That’s possibly true.”
My brother pushes me toward my ATV. “Go call Healy. I’ll fix … your definition of fixing this fence.”
I point at the cow. “She did it.”
“Mmhmm.”
As soon as I get home, I take out my phone and find Healy’s card.
His voice comes on the line almost immediately. “Frank Healy.”
“Hi, this is—”
“Leighton Whitaker.”
“How did you know?”
“You’re the only person I can think of who’d be calling from an 802 area code.”
“Oh. Sorry to bother you—”
“Not a bother at all. I’ve been hoping you’d call.”
And just like that, I agree to give this thing a shot. It’s only a meeting.