Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
It’s a shame she has to pay the price her father refused to pay.
My father always said everything in life trickles down. All the good, all the bad.
The key is controlling the way it falls.
I can’t change the fact that my mother’s no longer here, but I can even the score. Rich has caused us pain and suffering for the last twenty years.
I’m simply returning the favor.
I pull into my driveway ten minutes later and catch a whiff of Sheridan’s subtle-sweet perfume on my shirt after rolling up the windows. I’ll admit, there was something peaceful about holding her while she slept. Something serene about sitting with someone and doing nothing but breathing. The outside world didn’t exist. I couldn’t so much as move to grab my phone from my pocket to piss away some time. I simply held her—something I’ve never done with anyone before. The strangest part of it all, was that it wasn’t torturous.
Dare I say I enjoyed it?
I even let my mind wander down a path or two—out of sheer boredom, of course. Imagining a future with her, a relationship, being one of those couples.
Regardless, it doesn’t matter.
We don’t have a future—we have a score to settle.
And then we’re done.
Chapter Sixteen
Sheridan
* * *
“Sher, you mind doing the dishes this time?” Dad asks as we finish breakfast Saturday morning. Normally it’s a team effort. He washes and I dry. But the bags under his eyes are heavier today, the circles a shade darker than usual. He worked last night, but this isn’t the look of physical exhaustion. This is something else, I know it. “I’m going to see if I can’t grab an extra hour of sleep before I go in again.”
“Yeah, I’ve got it.” I don’t look him in the eye. I haven’t been able to all week. Every time I try, I get nauseous. Or I end up biting my tongue to keep from vomiting words and accusations all over him. I’m not ready to confront him. I need more evidence or else he’ll gaslight me with that fatherly smile of his as he pats me on the head and calls me “kiddo.”
“How was the sleepover last night?” Mom asks as I fill the sink with soapy water. “What’d you girls do?”
“We watched a movie,” I lie, wincing. “That new one with Robert Pattinson. And we ordered pizza. Stalked her ex online. The usual.”
I hate lying to her, I do. But in this case, telling the truth would do more harm than good. No point in upsetting her.
She chuckles. “Oh, you girls …”
“So …” I draw in a long breath as I rinse bits of scrambled eggs off a floral plate. “I know this is kind of random, but I was thinking … and I leave for college in a few weeks.”
“Yes, sweetheart. I’m well aware.”
“Adriana said there’s this charity in town, where you can apply for these grants or something for home health aides …” I’m a terrible liar. “I don’t know all the details. She said her grandma got into the program a couple years ago.”
I’m going to hell with a one-way ticket.
“Oh? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Her voice inches up, as if her curiosity has been piqued. “You’d think the doctors would’ve said something about that years ago?”
I rinse the plate under a stream of cold water before placing it in the drying rack. “I think it’s kind of a word of mouth, in the know kind of program? Private donors … or something. Anyway, would you be okay with me putting your name in the hat?”
She’s quiet. And after a few more seconds of silence, I turn to make sure she’s still there. Only I find her staring out the window, lost in thought.
I twist the faucet handle to ‘off’ and take the seat beside her. “Mama, sometimes you forget your meds. And other times you get those spells. And there are times you—”
She swats her hand at me. “I know.”
“In a few weeks, I won’t be just a phone call away anymore. And Dad can’t leave work on a whim if something happens.” I wring my hands. “At least let me apply for this and see what happens. It’s not like you have anything to lose.”
Mama drags in a slow breath and lets it go, shoulders falling. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Couldn’t hurt. Just don’t go getting all hopeful.”
I finish the dishes and help her to the living room to get her situated for her mid-morning nap. And when I’m done, I hit the shower, squeezing my eyes tight and letting the water drip down my neck slow and teasing, just the way he kissed me last night …
… just the way I’m going to let him kiss me again—soon.
A good time for a good cause.
How could it go wrong?