Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
That thought had hit me, hard, during Sunday dinner. For the first time, I saw how even hundreds of miles away, Mr. Mansfield still affected Alec, making him tremble, even as a grown man. I’d seen little hints of it, heard voices raised in anger while pedaling my bike, saw him sitting out on the beach, alone, even when my brothers weren’t around. But I’d never put the pieces together until that moment.
That’s why I had to get out of there Sunday.
Understanding Alec, my childhood nemesis? The horror.
If I went soft on him, it could only mean one thing...
“I’m surprised you came back here,” I say.
He chuckles. “Why wouldn’t I? Some of the best times I had were right here. I mean, you came back, too, so it’s not that bad, right? Plus I missed the blueberry ice cream we used to get at the farm on 115. That alone is worth it.”
I nod. “At Toots? Oh, yeah, little more of a drive, but way better than Sweets. Sweets closed down last year.”
“Damn.”
“Pretty sure they still kept your guys’ faces on their Wall of Shame until the last day.”
He chuckles. “We were legendary.”
“Amongst other things.”
There’s a silence, and maybe it’s the few swigs of liquid courage in my veins, but I bring myself to ask a daring question.
“What else did you miss about this town?” I ask.
He doesn’t miss a beat. “There’s one thing I really missed. It’s something I’d think about randomly, while I was doing my rounds at the hospital, and it would always excite me.”
I lean in, interested. The way he’s saying it makes me think he’s about to make some emotional confession, probably about one of the girls he dated. He always went out with the prettiest, most-wanted girls in high school.
“Let me guess,” I say before he can answer. “Carlina Smith.”
He looks over at me. “Who?”
I frown. Did I have the name wrong? No, no one ever forgets her name. “You dated her almost your entire senior year. She was your prom queen.”
He nods slowly. “Oh, right. Big ...” He puts his hands out in front of him to signify breasts. “Yeah. No. I haven’t thought about her in years. You know where she is?”
“She’s married. I hear she has six kids and lives upstate,” I say dismissively. I shouldn’t have wagered any guesses, because I’m now on the edge of the seat to hear what he actually missed because the tension lingering between us makes me think he’s about to divulge some deep secret. “What were you saying? You missed …?”
“Oh, yeah. I miss going 80 miles an hour down Brown’s Hill, down that steep drop, the way it made me come out of my seat and feel like I was flying even if it was only for five seconds.”
I stare at him, nose wrinkled. Okay, that was a thing the kids in high school did around there, but it never appealed to me. I can’t see why anyone would miss something so silly.
“Really?”
“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” he says, cracking open another beer. “Have you ever tried it?”
“Out there? No. Why? All the bad kids used to go there to drink and make out and smoke weed.” I shudder at the thought. That stuff never appealed to me. It always seemed unsafe.
“Oh, so, I’m a bad kid? What happened to that shit you said at dinner, about living life?”
“You’re not bad, but ...” Jonathan always used to think I wasn’t worthy of a place like that. He always used to treat me like a princess, taking me out to nice dinners and solitary picnics on the beach. You’re not like them. You’re better than them. You deserve more than a drunken, back-of-the-car make-out session. “It’s just not my scene.”
“Okay, so what is your scene?”
I open my mouth to answer, but then I realize, I have no answer. Jonathan took my virginity on the beach, during one of those picnics, after plying me with some fancy wine he’d taken from his parents’ home bar. Back then, it had felt a lot classier than Brown’s Hill. But was it, really? Or was I blinded by the throes of a young, first love?
And he’s right. I’m nothing like my zany aunt. I’ve barely lived at all.
Alec seems to understand my silence. “I’ll take you sometime.”
“That’s okay.”
“You’re the one who said you wanted to live. Like Aunt Connie.”
“Yeah. But not with you.”
“What’s wrong with me? I think if I got you in the right mood …”
“Don’t press your luck. You barely got me up on this sorry excuse for a balcony.”
“Yeah, but I got you up here.”
He’s right. I am. And again, it’s dangerous territory. If I want this civil détente to continue, I shouldn’t be wandering this far into enemy territory.
“Anway, I’m freezing.” I rise quickly as a shiver runs through me. I’ve only had a few swigs of my beer, but I should go. I set it down and go to the sliding door. “Thanks for the beer.”