Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“And you can’t. My whining sounds insensitive.”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m giving you the silver lining. She’s still here for you to mend the rift. You said the other day that your dad left you a voice mail. Have you called him back? You guys still in touch?”
She shakes her head. “Which also makes me sound terrible because your dad isn’t here anymore, either. Honestly, I don’t know if we’ll ever work our differences out.”
“Did you fight?”
Bethany falls really silent. I hold my breath, wondering if she’s going to tell me something helpful. Guilt niggles me for luring her into this conversation, but now that we’re here, it’s raw and stark and real. And I feel as if I’m beginning to understand her in a way I just didn’t during our previous conversations.
“Let’s just say that I recently came into contact with his unpleasant side.”
Like she didn’t know he was a douchebag all along? How is that possible? I want to press for more, but Bethany appears to be struggling to hold herself together.
“And you didn’t like it,” I finish for her. “I’m sorry.”
“It was…a shock. I grew up thinking he was so proud of me. He always pushed me to succeed. I was in a gifted and talented pre-K program by the time I was three. I was reading and doing simple math at four. I never went to kindergarten, just jumped directly into second grade. I also skipped fourth grade, eighth grade, and did concurrent high school and college course work as a senior. School was really awkward. I was so much younger than everyone. I used to cry. Dad did his best to convince me that everyone was simply jealous that I was so much better than them and that I should ignore their crap. But the truth is, to those kids, I was a freak.”
Shit, the picture she paints of her childhood is bleak. Against my will, I feel sorry for her. I wonder if that’s why she had so little compunction about stealing from others. People showed her no compassion or empathy, so she merely returned the favor? Maybe. Is it possible she’s bullshitting me altogether? Sure…but it seems unlikely. She’d have to be a really good actress. Not saying it’s impossible, but how could she so realistically fake the guilt and sadness pouring off her? Then again, maybe that’s how she scammed her clients in the first place.
My gut rejects that.
What if her father was the one responsible for the theft and she was swept up in the scam?
“You’re fantastic, not a freak,” I assure her in soothing tones.
“I’m pretty sure that, other than my siblings and their spouses, you might be the only person who thinks so. But…thanks.” She smiles at me with forced cheer and extracts her hand from mine to wipe away tears.
Real fucking tears.
“You don’t have to front for me.”
“I appreciate that, but wallowing is no way to start a new year. Besides, we’re almost to Maxon and Keeley’s place and I’d rather not have them see me upset.”
Good call. “Your brother seemed pretty intense.”
“Maxon is protective. Griff, too. We might not have known each other long, but they slipped right into family mode. It’s been…kind of nice. In some ways, they’re a lot like my father. But in the ways that count, they’re not.”
“So was your dad married when he had an affair with your mom?”
“Yeah. Over the decades, he’s had a lot of affairs with a lot of his assistants. I’m not his only illegitimate child. My youngest brother, Evan, came a few years after me. Dad even has a newborn by his last assistant, the daughter of a friend—who’s predictably now an enemy.” She shakes her head. “I think I overlooked a lot of his behavior for a long time, made excuses for why his wandering penis had nothing to do with his true character. But in the end, it did.”
And she’s disillusioned. That fact rings in her voice. So not only was her mom not someone to look up to, now she has to deal with the reality of her dad being a tomcatting, defrauding asshole.
The implications of everything she tells me have my head reeling. I need to think.
“Well, at least you have your siblings in your corner now.”
“Seemingly, yeah. They’ve been way better to me than I would have believed or probably deserve. I’m grateful for that.”
As we pull up in front of the bed-and-breakfast, her siblings, their spouses, and a few guests all spill out. The lights glow above the lanai. Tiki torches are lit. People laugh. Couples embrace. I see a lot of happiness.
“Speaking of…” she drawls. “Thanks for the ride.”
“You’re welcome. Looks like they’re holding the party for you. Have fun.”
She shakes her head. “I’m going to bed. They’ve got a few guests here this week, and I’d really rather not stay and be the sad third wheel. Again.”