Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“I’m not going to live with you forever. I’m going to college.”
“Excellent. Your mom would be proud.”
“Do you think she’d want you to find a girlfriend?” Lola pulls the cheese off her pizza, recovers the mushrooms and sausage, and puts those back on without the cheese.
I’ll end up eating her cheese, so it doesn’t go to waste. “Lola, your mom and I didn’t talk about that.”
That’s a lie.
“If you had died instead, would you have wanted her to find a new boyfriend?”
This girl is not ten. She’s twenty.
“Sure,” I say in defeat.
“Well, then . . .”
“Sweetie, Nana and Pa moved in with us to help out. In return, they want to know I’m focused solely on you. So I think I should respect their wishes for the time being.”
“Hogwash.”
Again, I choke. She picked that up from Tia. It’s what she says to Lola when my darling daughter gets overdramatic, which is all too often.
“Do you even know what that means?” I ask.
“It means BS, but you won’t let me say that.”
I frown. “Let’s talk about you. Where do you plan on going to college?”
“UM, where Mom taught.”
I didn’t expect her to answer. I don’t want her to make plans beyond this slice of pizza on her plate. “I was joking. It’s a big world, Lola. And you’re ten. However, when the time comes, you may decide to spread your wings and go to school in another state.”
She deflates. “I have to go to UM because I can ride my bike there.”
Oh, sweet girl.
“Do you wish you could ride in a car without thinking about the accident? Without thinking about Mom dying? If someone could erase the fear and the bad memories from your mind, and you could be like your friends at school who don’t fear riding in cars, would you want that?”
Lola presses her fingertip to the parmesan cheese on her plate and then licks it off. “Yeah.”
On the inside, I enjoy a sigh of relief.
“Is Victoria going to erase my memories?”
“No. I think she’s working to make your memories feel less scary. I’m just happy to hear that you want to have a different life. You have a lot of years before you need to think about college. So why not imagine a day you can ride or even drive in a car?”
She tries to smile, but it falls down her face like her shoulders collapsing inward. I don’t push anymore.
“Still have room for dessert breadsticks?” I ask.
She perks up. “I thought you said no.”
“I did, but I changed my mind.”
Her spine straightens, and that smile I adore returns to her beautiful face. “Maybe you can change your mind about other things, like letting me ride to school by myself,” she says.
“I could, but I’m not going to.”
Chapter Nine
Maren
I’m a fraud, and I blame Ozzy Laster.
It’s been three days since I talked with him. I start my ten-day shift tomorrow. Could I text him? Sure, but I want him to make the next move so that I know it’s not one sided. Yet here I am, driving to Cielo with a plate of homemade cookies. Jamie is an excellent baker and an even better friend. She said popping into a guy’s workplace with cookies is always a win.
“Hey, Maren,” Hillary says. “What brings you in today?”
“You know, I got to thinking about the form I filled out for the insurance update, and I think I forgot to sign it. So I decided to pop in and check, and I thought I’d bring some cookies to leave in the break room.”
“You bake?” Hillary narrows her brown eyes.
No. I don’t bake. And I know I signed my insurance-update form. Again, I’m a fraud, and I blame Ozzy.
I shrug. “Sometimes.”
“Wow. Well, I’m sure everyone will scarf down those cookies, but there was no need to stop by, because you signed the form. I always check for signatures.”
“Phew. Now I feel silly. I should have just called. I’ll set these in the break room and finish running errands.” I have no errands. Getting Ozzy’s attention is my only plan for today.
“Better let me steal one before you take off with them.” She winks.
“Of course.” I fold back the plastic wrap so she can grab a cookie.
“These smell amazing. I love a classic chocolate chip cookie.” She takes a bite, and her eyes roll back in her head. “You have to give me your recipe.”
“I’ll do that.”
Hillary narrows her eyes and slowly chews another bite. “There’s something extra. It’s so good, but I can’t quite place the taste. What is it?”
“It’s a secret ingredient.”
“If you’re giving me the recipe, you can just tell me.” She chuckles.
That’s such a good point.
“It’s the vanilla.” I smile.
“Really? I think vanilla is standard in chocolate chip cookies.”
She could be right. I need to make more things from scratch.