Total pages in book: 10
Estimated words: 9444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 47(@200wpm)___ 38(@250wpm)___ 31(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 9444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 47(@200wpm)___ 38(@250wpm)___ 31(@300wpm)
“I am. Are those my pajamas?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Um… yes. I, um didn’t have anything here but the dress I wore on our date last night,” I say, completely embarrassed.
“Oh. Oh,” she says, eyes widening.
“Yeah. Sorry. Are you hungry? Your brother said you’d be coming from New Jersey last night.”
“Oh my God! Starving. It smells amazing. Thanks. Let me put my stuff down and talk to Isaac. It’s nice to meet you, Abby. I am certain we’ll be great friends.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask. It’s not easy for me to make friends, so I am a little skeptical.
“The universe, duh. I can tell these things,” she says leaving the kitchen.
What’s with these Miller’s and their deal with the universe?
Five
Issac
Getting her to stay last night was easy. Getting her to stay forever should be too. Abigail and Cora are talking as if they've been friends forever as we eat the delicious food Abigail made. That warms my heart because I don't know what I'd do if they didn't get along. After breakfast, Cora volunteers to do the dishes so I can take Abby home, but I don't want to do that.
"I'm ready," she says, fully dressed again.
"That was quick," I say moving toward her. "Stay with me. Move in with me."
"What? Shouldn't you check with Cora first?" she asks, the shock evident on her beautiful face.
"It's fine with me," Cora shouts through the wall. "Just say yes."
"Thin walls," I say shrugging.
"I'll have to remember that," she says raising an eyebrow at me.
"So that's a yes?" I ask.
"Yes." She launches herself into my arms and we kiss. "My stuff? My car?" she asks.
"I'll drive you to get it all. When do you have class again?"
"Tuesday morning."
"We can be all done by then. Do you work?" I ask, realizing that I don’t know everything there is to know about her yet.
"Just part-time for now in order to pay for groceries. I own my car and everything else is covered by my scholarship and the little bit of financial aid I get."
"Well, you don't need to do that anymore."
"I'll find something closer. I have to contribute. I'm not gonna sit on my butt and do nothing while you do everything. Equal partners. Even when we have kids. I have dreams. They aren't big ones or anything. I want to be a librarian."
"Like Evie from The Mummy?" I ask, half joking. She just said it so passionately that I immediately thought of Rachel Weisz.
"Oh my God. Yes. She was so badass," she says excitedly.
"All right then. Dreams are good and I'll do everything in my power to help you achieve them."
“Thank you,” she says, kissing me again.
Later that night, most of her stuff is now in our space. She sleeps next to me after a failed attempt at quiet lovemaking. I don’t think she could be quiet if her life depended on it. I like that she is so vocal, but I don’t like that my little sister is mere feet away. I’ve tried to sleep but it’s no use. I climb out of bed carefully, so I don’t wake her. I pull on some sweatpants and head into the kitchen. I grab a bottle of beer and head out to the screened back porch. Being able to afford a house in historic Savannah with a pool was nothing short of a miracle. I snapped it up from a bank auction that I happened to be walking by. The house was stripped by former occupants and it needed a lot of work, but I needed to keep myself occupied at the time. That was nine years ago now. With the exception of Cora’s room, I kept very minimal decor and paints. I knew then that I was waiting for my forever to decide. I was waiting for Abigail.
Behind me, I hear the sliding glass door open.
“There you are,” Abigail says coming over to me. “It’s beautiful out here,” she breathes.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I say honestly. “I thought a beer could help me.”
“Did it?” she asks softly.
“No.”
“You were dreaming before,” she says.
“It was more of a nightmare, but yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“PTSD?” Her soft, soothing tone would annoy me if it was anyone else.
“Probably.”
“Have you seen anyone about it?”
“At first, an off-base psychiatrist. But it didn’t help, so I stopped going.”
“That’s not good, baby.”
“I know. I know but it’s too late now.”
“It’s not too late to take care of yourself, Isaac.”
“Why do you care so much?” I ask, surprised. What I am not prepared for is her reaction.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks angrily. She moves around the chair to stand in front of me. I put my hands on her hips. I look up at her. She is wrapped in the top sheet from the bed. Her hair is wild. The light from the pool isn’t bright, but it’s enough to allow me to see through the sheet.