Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Harley gave me a face that told me to run far away. But I stood my ground, not the least bit dismayed by the old woman. I explained I was a licensed professional social worker and not a ‘college twerp’ as she had elegantly labeled me.
She worked to scare me off by throwing every undesirable detail out there.
The residents are older.
Parties are prohibited.
Noise ordinance is enforced after nine p.m.
Anything she could think of, she used to deter my interest.
Instead of telling her to take her pre-conceived judgments and shove them up her ass, I straightened my shoulders and shot her my sweetest, gooiest, most confident smile, and gushed, ‘This sounds PERFECT!’
To her horror, I moved in the next week.
After chatting with the Rolands and learning Ronnie was not nearly the hard-core bitch she tried to portray, I devised a move-in plan.
The day my two brothers and two cousins drove up and jumped out of their obnoxious, oversized trucks to help me unload, Ronnie loosened her stance. They charmed her from their first hat-tipping, chin-dipping, deep southern-laced ‘Hello, ma’am’.
The old woman melted into a puddle. Then she offered to make them lunch for their back-breaking work, all the while ignoring me.
I’d figured this was a possibility, so I’d prepared. Next came the big gun.
Margo Keller.
My mom.
A woman who, with one look, could bring even the strongest of men to heel.
A woman who broke horses with the gentleness of a butterfly and the strength of steel.
And the woman who had the patience of a saint while raising my rowdy brothers and keeping them out of jail.
Ronnie didn’t stand a chance.
Turns out I was right.
Mom stepped out looking like a movie star at least fifteen years younger and aimed her syrupy wide smile at Ronnie.
The smile spoke volumes.
“That your mama?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You close?”
“She’s hard as nails and sweet as sugarcane.” At that moment, I let my dialect slip back to my native Kentucky draw.
That was it. Ronnie’s expression changed. “You’ll do.”
It wasn’t exactly the raving approval I’d hoped for, but it was acceptance.
That was three years ago.
Janice lives a few doors down and was much easier to win over. Bea is Janice’s sister and moved in recently while searching for her own place.
The stillness shakes me out of my head, and all attention is on me.
“What?”
“Why are you so quiet?” Ronnie’s eyes crinkle in suspicion.
“I was daydreaming about the day we met.”
“Daydreaming? About the day we met? That’s pathetic.”
“It is not. I’m fond of the memory.”
The three of them exchange a look that sends a prickle over my skin. Janice shoots me a sympathetic smile and speaks softly. “It’s great that you’re fond of the memory, but it’s not what pretty young women should daydream about. What’s wrong?”
“It was a rough week at work. We removed three kids from their homes. Luckily, they had family rushing to take them in. I had a domestic situation. They will release the woman from the hospital tomorrow, and her husband isn’t fighting charges.”
They remain silent, gawking at me.
“That’s it.”
“It’s a lot to handle, but you’ve had weeks with more drama. What’s really got you?”
“Nothing.” Even to myself, I sound unconvincing.
“Then why are you hanging out with us three bitties on a Friday night?”
“Because I love your company.”
“Not buying it. Where’s Harley?” Ronnie asks, getting up to refill her glass.
“She’s with Ace. He’s back to night shift soon, so they’re doing what disgustingly in love couples do.”
I want to slap myself at the bitterness bleeding into my tone. I’m not a jealous person. Especially not of Harley and Ace. They are meant for each other. There is no other man on this earth that will love my best friend as much as he does.
I down the rest of my wine in one swallow and avoid all eye contact. Ronnie comes back, refills my wine to almost the rim, and stays quiet.
I take another sip, trying to think of how to get out of this. “I’m meeting her tomorrow for our dress fittings. The wedding isn’t far out.”
There, good segue to a safer subject.
They don’t buy it.
“Buttercup, you’re not fooling us. Your face has heartache written all over it.”
My throat closes at the gentleness in her voice.
“Between the three of us, we have five daughters. We’ve had a lot of practice.”
“You skipped your shift at Tom’s last night.” Figures Ronnie would know.
“Are you keeping tabs on me?”
“Your car was parked all night. That’s not exactly spying.”
She’s got a point. “Tom covered for me.”
“You love that job.”
“I needed time to myself. It was a rough day.” I purposely emphasize the last sentence, hoping they will lay off.
“Does this heartache have anything to do with the hunk of handsome knocking on your door at eight this morning?” Bea says it so casually, I wonder if I heard her correctly.
My mind freezes, but my body jolts, rocking forward mere inches from her. “What did you say?”