Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 129354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“Oh boy,” Dad says. “Sheryl is going to shit a brick.”
I snort with laughter, and he responds with a loud chortle. It’s only been a few days, and our relationship is already different. It’s easier, almost entirely free of tension. Sure, we’re not going around hugging each other every other minute, but our conversations flow so much smoother, and we’re cracking more jokes. Real ones and not the sarcastic kind veiled with venom.
We’re truly starting over.
“Hold on. Let me text her back.”
ME: Hey!!! Can’t talk right now b/c I’m having breakfast with my dad but OMG!! Congratulations! This is amazing news and I’m so happy for you. You’re going to be the most beautiful bride, T!! <3 <3
Am I more or less bullshitting? I’ll be honest—yes. I still don’t believe a relationship with their track record is going to last. Lamar proposed at a club, for Pete’s sake. But Tansy is my cousin and I’ll support her no matter what, so while I’m not jumping-up-and-down ecstatic about this engagement, I am happy that she’s happy. And if by chance I’m wrong and they do end up making it down the aisle, I do believe she’ll make a beautiful bride.
She texts back immediately.
TANSY: Thanks, B!! CALL ME THE SECOND YOU’RE FREE!!
I smile at the phone and put it aside as Dad carries two plates to the table. Scrambled eggs, bacon, and cucumber slices. I thank him for breakfast and immediately dig in, talking with my mouth full.
“I can’t believe she’s engaged. This is going to be such a disaster. She’s way too young. Or rather, way too immature. I mean, jeez, I’m more equipped to get married right now.”
His expression turns wry. “Does that mean I should be expecting you and Connelly to announce your engagement any day now?”
I freeze. Then I pick up my fork and spear it into some eggs. “No. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“Why’s that?”
I chew extra slowly to delay my response. “Because we broke up.”
“Why’s that?” he says again.
“Because we did.” I roll my eyes. “You and I might be semi-cool now, but that doesn’t mean we’re best friends. I’m not going to reveal all my deep, dark secrets.”
“First of all, we’re not semi-cool. We’re cool. Period. And given that you promised not to scare the shit out of me again, I don’t much like hearing this breakup might’ve been deep and dark.” There’s genuine concern in his tone.
“It’s not,” I assure him. “If you must know, Jake dumped me because he wanted to focus on hockey.”
Dad frowns.
“It’s totally fine. It wasn’t going anywhere, anyway. He’s moving to Edmonton, remember? Long-distance relationships never work.”
“Your mother and I made it work,” he says gruffly.
I glance up in surprise. “When were you and Mom in a long-distance relationship?”
“She was a year younger than me,” he reminds me. “After I graduated, she still had one more year left at Yale. That was the year that fuckhead made his move and—”
“Wait a sec. Back it up like a Tonka truck. What fuckhead?” I suddenly gasp. “Are you talking about Daryl Pedersen?”
“Yes. He was a senior like your mother. Same major, too. Broadcasting.” Dad smiles. “Like you, as well. Anyway, he waited until I graduated before making his move on Marie.”
I’m horrified. “Did Mom…?”
“Jesus. Of course not. Your mother was a sweet and proper Georgian peach. Loyal to a fault.”
“So Coach Pedersen tried to steal Mom away and she shot him down.” I’m utterly captivated by this. It’s always so jarring to remember your parents lived full, well-rounded lives long before you ever came into the world.
“Daryl played the ‘I’m going to take care of your girl when you’re gone’ card,” Dad says with a snort. “We weren’t close friends. I didn’t like him, but I tolerated him. Had to, because we were teammates. Your mother, well, she had a different opinion. She thought he was sweet, and she accused me of being paranoid for distrusting him. But I played with the fucker for three years, so I knew what kind of man he was. An arrogant prick, not above playing dirty, and damn sneaky—he was a ladies’ man, but around your mother he acted like a choirboy.”
Dad shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth, chews, swallows, and then reaches for his coffee. “You know, it’s not even that he made a play for your mother that bothers me. He could’ve been upfront about his intentions. Could’ve said, ‘Hey, I’m attracted to Marie and I’m going to tell her.’ Admittedly, I would’ve laughed in his face, but then I would’ve said, ‘Sure, go ahead.’” My father smirks. “I never had any doubt about your mother’s feelings for me.”
Must be nice, I want to say. I hadn’t doubted Jake’s feelings, either, and he turned around and dumped me.
“But he went about it in an underhanded way. You don’t have to love all your teammates, but at least respect them. He cozied up to your mother, planned study sessions, platonic outings. And one night they went out with a group of friends, and he walked her home. Escorted her all the way upstairs and then tried to paw her outside her apartment door.”