Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
His words made me angry. I disliked his blatant distaste for my hometown. He must have forgotten he once loved it here too. The same way he’d forgotten he loved me.
“You want a gym?”
He nodded. “A private one, preferably.”
I snorted. “Try the Y, superstar. That’s about all you’re going to get. Or, even better, try the big city. They have private gyms and far more luxurious places to rent.”
And I slammed the door in his face.
Yep. I was going to handle this just fine.
5
OLIVER
Kassie slammed the door so hard it shook. Shocked, I stepped back, realizing my attempt at levity had gone over like a lead balloon.
She had obviously forgotten we used to refer to Richton as our hick town. I’d thought it would make her smile.
Big mistake.
And unless I was incorrect, she wasn’t happy about me being here. At all.
I ran a hand over my face. I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised. But I was stunned at how it bothered me. And mystified me. I hadn’t thought about Kassie in years, so why should her opinion of me matter?
My subconscious laughed, reminding me there had been times when all I’d thought about was her.
I ignored it.
Then I turned and walked away, hoping to leave the odd feelings and inner laughter behind me.
For the first while, I kept my head down with my baseball hat on and my sunglasses firmly in place. I discovered the gym at the YMCA wasn’t as bad as I feared—the pool had been recently upgraded and the machines fairly new. To be polite, I removed my sunglasses and hat as I spoke to the woman at the YMCA, and I was pleased when she didn’t recognize me. She was kind and helpful, not reacting to my name on the ID I gave her for a temporary membership. She gave me a card and a list of hours and classes, then returned to the task she’d been doing when I walked in.
Outside, I left off my baseball hat and walked around, enjoying the anonymity. People smiled and even said hello as I passed them on the street, but that was all. No one took my picture or followed me, shouting questions. It was a sensation I had forgotten—being free and private.
In the grocery store, I bought some staples and was pleased to see the hot food counter and a small salad bar. I picked up a couple of meals from the hot counter and filled two containers with salad that looked surprisingly fresh and tasty. The clerk was chatty, surmising quickly I was new in town and on my own. She asked me if I was there for the movie that was going to be filming.
“Yes, ma’am,” I replied.
“Oh, it’s so exciting. Everyone is buzzing!”
I smiled.
“My grandson is in all his school plays. He loves to perform, and he sings too. He’s hoping to be picked as an extra.” She paused in her praise. “Do you have bags?”
“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t think. Can I buy some?”
She nodded. “The cloth is better. Good handles and better for the environment. You can reuse them. My granddaughter is into recycling and the whole footprint thing. She is always teaching me.”
“You’re very proud of your grandkids,” I commented, enjoying a simple conversation that had nothing to do with me or my life.
She laughed. “I’m talking too much. My Bert says I talk people’s ears off.”
I chuckled and took my bags. “My ears are still firmly in place. No worries.”
She tilted her head. “You look familiar.”
I waited for it—the dawning recognition, the request for an autograph or picture. But it never happened. She smiled and tapped her nose. “You grew up here.”
“Yes.”
“I never forget a face. You’re Dorothy’s boy.”
My throat felt thick as I responded. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I was sorry when she passed. She was a great lady.”
Her words warmed my heart. “Thank you.”
“You’re an actor now.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ll be. Someone famous in the store.” She glanced around and dropped her voice. “I won’t breathe a word.”
I chuckled. “I’ll put in a good word for your grandson. I can’t promise anything…”
“How wonderful. His name is Timmy Woods.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“I’m Ginny, by the way.”
“Oliver.”
She nodded. “I remember.”
“Thanks for, ah, everything. Being so kind,” I added.
She beamed at me, and I left the store, somehow uplifted by the interaction.
Then I headed back to Kassie’s house, wondering if there was any way I could start a dialogue with her and clear the air.
But her car was gone when I got there, so I headed upstairs, unpacked the groceries, and decided to have a nap.
I was exhausted.
I woke a few hours later and rolled off the bed. It was a great mattress—firm and supportive. And the linens were soft and thick. Kassie obviously took great care of the place.
With a sigh, I pulled out a salad and heated up a slice of lasagna I’d chosen at the store. It was decent and I was hungry, having not eaten anything but the pie all day.