Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 769(@200wpm)___ 615(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Rex’s hand has found its way onto my thigh and its warm weight is comforting. I hand him the whiskey and he takes a few swallows.
“The sister attempted to break down all known laws of physics by simultaneously being completely self-centered and totally obsessed with what everyone else thought about her. It boggles the mind how one human being can possibly speak so many sentences about herself in a row and still have it seem like she’s saying mean things about you. Truly, she has apprenticed at the feet of the master. In related news, she and the mother got matching haircuts, so the sister now also looks like the fifty-year-old president of a Chabad house. The end.”
I pass Ginger the bottle silently.
“I know what we need,” she says. She walks over to the record player.
“Tom Waits,” I whisper to Rex so Ginger can’t hear.
After that perfect static smear, Tom Waits counts off, “1, 2, 3, 4,” and the opening strains of “Ol’ ’55” start.
“Called it,” I say, and Ginger raises the bottle to me in a mocking toast.
Then Rex’s stomach growls so loudly that I can hear it over the music.
“Sorry,” he says. “Are you guys hungry?”
It’s after ten and poor Rex hasn’t eaten anything since we stopped at a rest stop outside Pittsburgh. I shrug.
“I could eat,” Ginger says. “Here, I’ll order something. Or, do you want the tots?” she asks me.
“Ugh, no, not tonight, sorry,” I say. There’s this bar a few blocks away that makes these diabolical tater tots that they kind of treat like nachos, with Cheez Whiz, some meat that I probably don’t want to know about, and horseradish ketchup.
“I can make us something,” Rex offers.
“Good luck,” I say. Ginger waves him into the kitchen, winking at me.
“Jesus,” Rex says from the kitchen. “You’re as bad as Daniel.”
“I’ll get the menus.” Ginger has a folder of menus from every restaurant within a thirty-block radius, organized by current level of favor.
AFTER WE eat, I’m sleepy and a bit drunk. I feel a little raw from all the talking about feelings and shit, and also a little shy with Rex, like maybe he’s mad I didn’t tell him what I told them in response to Ginger’s prodding.
“Tell me something happy,” I tell Ginger. Whenever we talk about heavy shit, we always end with something happy, like conversational dessert. “Tell me about Christopher. The burrito holder,” I say to Rex.
“He smells really good, but like a grown-up,” Ginger says.
“That’s important,” I say, nodding.
“He holds eye contact for the exact right amount of time, so you can tell he’s focused on you but it doesn’t feel creepy.”
“Mmm.”
“He called me Gingerbread once and I only hated it, like, 65 percent.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah. You can meet him, maybe. Tomorrow?”
“Maybe. Tomorrow’s the funeral. Tomorrow night?” She nods. Rex’s arm tightens around me when I say the word “funeral,” like it’s an emotional bomb against which I need to be supported.
“Tell me how you guys met, Rex.”
“You didn’t tell her?” Rex asks, and he sounds a little hurt.
“No, I did,” I say. “She wants to hear how you tell it.”
“Well,” Rex says, “I was out walking in the woods around my house. I’d heard wolf howls the night before, so I wanted to check it out.”
“You said you were hunting!” I accuse.
“No, you asked what the gun was for. I’ve only been hunting once. You just thought everyone in the country goes out to shoot their dinner every night. Besides, sweetheart, it was dark.”
Oh yeah. It was dark. I grumble and gesture at him to get on with it.
“Point is, I was worried about running into a wolf or something, when I heard this awful sound. Couldn’t tell what it was, but a while later I heard this guy talking to himself. I shined my light toward the sound and there’s this man holding an animal. When the light hit his face, I froze because I’d never seen someone so beautiful.”
My heart beats faster and I look up at Rex. He looks a little embarrassed.
“Clearly a city guy, wearing a suit and all, but he looked so out of place or something. Not just in the woods, but in the suit. And he looked terrified. At first I thought he was just really worried about the dog, but then he was looking at me like I was something out of a horror movie.”
“You had a gun,” I say weakly.
“When I got close to him to take the dog, he started babbling about whether the dog was a boy or a girl. It was adorable. I liked how he talked. Like I was smart and could understand whatever he was on about. He was just… different. I thought, if I can help that dog, maybe this guy will give me the time of day. So I brought them back to my house even though I never bring people there. I was trying so hard not to check him out that I took about twice as long to fix the dog’s leg as I needed to.