Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Then I’d exited out of the app, reminding myself that I was glad I’d gotten to see him and that I was so happy for how successful he was. Despite the setbacks but everyone went through those.
He deserved all of it. He had motivated me to follow my own heart, even if my dream was about one-hundredth the size of his. But if every person weighed their dream against someone else’s, nobody would ever dream at all.
Anyway, other than a text from Boogie about him possibly coming to visit when my sister was here, I hadn’t thought much about it—okay, Zac—since.
So the last thing I freaking expected was for him to text me.
And that was exactly when another message came through.
512-555-0199: Zac, peewee
Did he think I’d forgotten who Snack Pack was? The thing was, I hadn’t had his number in my phone in probably five years, if not longer. I’d dropped my cell in the toilet and had to start all over again with my contacts. I sure as hell hadn’t been about to ask my cousin for his number. There hadn’t been a need for it.
I made sure no one was paying attention to me and texted him back. I might not get a response but… it wouldn’t be the first time, and at least I’d know I had tried. It was my choice, and I knew the worst that would happen: I wouldn’t hear from him again.
Been there, done that, and I had the bumper sticker.
Plus, I still felt like an asshole, and I hated knowing I’d acted that way. I’d thought I was better than that. And I just wanted to know that I had always tried. Unlike him.
Me: Hi Zac
There we go. That wasn’t needy or inconvenient or too familiar.
My phone vibrated a minute later, and if my heart skipped a tiny beat, well, it was dumb, and I didn’t need to be paying attention to it anyway.
512-555-0199: Hi darlin
512-555-0199: You free after work?
I didn’t know what it said about me that I noticed he used “darlin’” enough so that it was saved on his phone instead of “darling.”
Most importantly though, how did he know I was at work? And now that I thought about it, had he had my number or had he asked Boogie for it?
You know what? I didn’t need either of those questions answered.
Because regardless, it had taken ten years for him to remember I existed.
But at least this time, I was prepared for what could happen next. It wouldn’t be a shock to my system again. I knew where I stood, and that would be the difference between now and before.
Mostly though, I didn’t want to be a jerk.
Me: Yes. [smiley face emoji] Need something?
That was good, right? I thought so. Hoped so. Maybe a little cold and blah, but oh well.
He replied five minutes later, but it took me twenty more minutes after that to read it because someone came in and signed up for a month-to-month membership.
512-555-0199: I just wanna see you if you have time for me.
Okay. So he wanted to catch up? All right. I hadn’t been very nice to him, but he was still trying, which was so like him—or at least how he used to be. And that made me feel a little worse.
But….
He was asking for it, not me. The fact was: I didn’t cry myself to sleep at night because he’d stopped caring about me. And if he wanted to come back into my life, even if it was just for a couple of hours?
That was all right too.
Expectations.
And he loved my cousin. And maybe I’d see him again during Boogie’s wedding. Might as well get used to the idea.
I peeked again to make sure the coast was clear and replied.
Me: I get off at 4. Let me know when you’re free. [smiley face emoji] No pressure.
No pressure. A smiley face. Passive-aggressive much?
It took three minutes to get a response.
512-555-0199: Come over when you get off work.
What?
Me: Today?
512-555-0199: Yeah
Yeah.
For one brief second, I thought about all the things I needed to do at home. Laundry for sure. Meal prep for a couple of days. Respond to some emails. And brainstorm some more ideas for upcoming recipes. Watch another episode or two of the Turkish show I was hooked on….
But an image of Mamá Lupe settled into my brain right then—specifically an image of Zac standing beside her on his twenty-first birthday with his arm over her shoulders, slouched over so much that his cheek rested on her head. She had loved the hell out of him.
And I knew what she would want me to do.
I also knew what would keep me up at night and what wouldn’t.
Shit balls.
* * *
Four hours later, I was pulling up to a house that looked even bigger without three hundred cars parked in the driveway and in front of the street. There were cars in the driveway but only two, a newish Mercedes and a red Jeep.