Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Lying there afterward, I felt lonely and pathetic, doomed to night after night of jerking off to her memory. This wasn’t what I wanted for the rest of my life. I no longer found peace in this solitude—just agony. I wanted a different kind of life. I wanted a life with her, even if I had to stare down all my demons to have it.
I hoped it wasn’t too late.
Asking Stella for a second chance wasn’t anything I wanted to do over the phone. I had to go to her. That was better, right? I’d drive down to Detroit and surprise her. I’d book a hotel room in the city and spend the entire weekend worshiping her body, making up for what I’d done, and showing her that she was right about me—I was a good man. And I would be good to her. I would make her happy.
All I needed was her address.
On Thursday, I called Mrs. Gardner to ask for it.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mrs. Gardner. It’s Ryan next door.” Nervous, I started pacing back and forth in front of my couch.
“Oh hello, Mr. Woods. Did you enjoy the pie?”
“Yes. I have a favor to ask. Do you think you could give me Stella’s address?”
“Her address? Whatever for?”
“I’d—I’d like to visit her.”
“Oh? Why’s that? You’ll pardon my being so forward, Mr. Woods, but she is my granddaughter and I’m a mite protective.”
My face was hot. “I only want to tell her I was wrong about something. That I’ve changed my mind.”
“I see. And when were you going to visit?”
“This weekend, but please don’t tell her. I’d like it to be a surprise.”
“Oh. Oh, dear,” she fussed. “This is terrible.”
“What is?”
“Well, I was just about to call you.”
“You were?”
“Yes, you see, I’ve had some bad news.”
I froze. “What bad news?”
“A friend of mine has passed away.”
“Oh.” I felt like a jerk for being relieved, but I’d been scared for a minute something had happened to Stella. Mrs. Gardner’s friends had to be pretty old, didn’t they? “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yes. She was a very dear friend. The funeral is Saturday and my car has been giving me some trouble. I’m afraid I won’t be able to make the service.”
“I’d be happy to come take a look at it.”
“That’s so kind of you, but I’ve already taken it to the shop.”
“Oh.”
“So I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind driving me on Saturday? It would mean so much to me, and I’m sure whatever it is you need to tell Stella can wait.”
No, it couldn’t! I’d waited long enough, dammit. “Saturday?” I repeated, like I hadn’t heard.
“Yes. I’m sure if you pick me up about two-thirty, we’d be there in plenty of time. The service is at four.”
Inwardly I stifled a groan. There went my dream of a weekend holed up with Stella in a hotel. Could I say no?
Nice. Turn down an old lady’s plea for help so you can go get laid. Wonder how Stella would feel about that, Mr. Good Guy.
I grimaced. “Okay. I’ll pick you up by two-thirty.”
“Oh, thank you, dear. And wear something a little nice, since my hip has been bothering me and I might need you to escort me in.”
Jesus Christ. Could this get any worse? I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay. I will.”
“You’re such a nice boy. See you Saturday.”
“Yeah.”
I ended the call and threw my phone onto the couch.
Sometimes doing the right thing sucked.
Thirty-Six
Grams
Poor Mr. Woods.
I’d almost feel sorry for him if he hadn’t been such a silly, stubborn thing for so long.
He really was a nice boy to agree to stay in town and escort me to a funeral when what he really wanted to do was go canoodle with Stella. Thank goodness he’d come to his senses.
As I made my five o’clock martini, I laughed to myself and pictured his face when he realized we were going to a wedding, not a funeral.
A bit underhanded of me, perhaps, but things like this couldn’t be left to chance. What if I gave him her address and then he chickened out? How many times had I caught Frank sitting in his car out in front of my house, trying to work up the nerve to come in and say he’d been an idiot? Every time, I’d be watching him out the window, and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I’d go out there and put the poor bugger out of his misery by inviting him in for a slice of pie.
I held up my glass. “To you, my dearest Frank.”
Suddenly the wind howled at the kitchen window.
“Oh, stop. You know they’re meant to be together. I’m only helping things along. And what better cause to fight for than love?”
After one more gust, the wind quieted to a soft murmur, and I smiled.