Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79547 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
He mulls this over, his teeth pulling at loose skin on his bottom lip, something I’ve noticed him doing more often lately.
“I know your mom loves that Asian food place on Beckett.”
“What about Nanny? She can’t eat spicy foods.”
“Buddy.” I want to wrap him in a hug when realization makes his face fall.
“Nanny can’t eat anymore.” His eyes dart away, his face set in scowl when he realizes he’s still in public, and there’s no way he can break down here where his peers may see and give him shit for it later.
“But I think if we get your mom the orange chicken, lo Mein, and a couple egg rolls that she may not complain when we turn the game on tonight.”
He nods, but I can tell his heart just isn’t in this either.
The ride to the restaurant, the wait for food, and the drive back to his house are all spent in silence. I can’t open my mouth to tell him everything is going to be okay, because it won’t be. He’s going to hurt for a long time. He’ll always feel the loss of his grandmother. Downplaying it or trying to get him to focus on the good memories he has had with her would not only be disrespectful to his feelings, but it would also be rude considering Brooke is still alive, although the end is near.
Tinley doesn’t get excited when we come home with more food than the three of us could possibly eat in an evening. She doesn’t even come out of Brooke’s room when Alex walks into the house like she has every day this week when he got home from school.
I know from the tension in the air the second we walk in that it won’t be long. The woman I love but don’t have the balls to tell and my son are about to have their world blown apart, and there’s nothing I can do to take away or ease the pain that’s coming.
Alex leaves me, unconcerned for the food we just picked up and goes to find his mom. I busy myself getting plates and silverware together for when they’re ready to eat.
A knock hits the front door, and I rush to answer it because the two people I care about most in the world could possibly be saying their final goodbyes, and that needs to be something they can do uninterrupted.
A face from my past is staring back at me when I tug the door open.
“The fuck?” Cooper Holland snaps when he sees me.
Time hasn’t been generous with him. Even through Tinley’s stress and hard work she’s still the same beautiful angel she was thirteen years ago. Her older brother on the other hand looks like he’s aged thirty years. His sunken eyes, pointed cheekbones, and the unhappy look on his face makes the man look like every minute of every single day since the last time I saw him has been spent in agony.
“Hey, man,” I say, still unwilling to step aside for him to enter. It’s not my place to keep this man from his family, but he was supposed to be here days ago.
I only overheard part of the conversation Tinley had with him the day after she came home from the hospital with the news of what was going on with Brooke, but he had assured her he’d head this way immediately. That was nearly a week ago.
“My key didn’t work in the front door. Is that your doing?”
Cooper shoulders past me into the house, his head snapping in every direction as if he’s waiting for something to jump out and get him. It’s clear from the overexaggerated actions that he’s on something. Not that it surprises me. The Cooper I knew and hung out with before Tinley moved to town was a party animal, willing to use any drug, drink any concoction to have a good time. He was the life of the party, always quick to make people laugh or do ridiculous shit to get attention. He didn’t stay in town long after Tinley and her parents were forced to move back after her dad lost his job.
Tinley had said he didn’t get along with their dad, but I imagine it goes deeper than that. There’s always more to the story.
“I don’t know about the locks, Coop. They could’ve been changed years ago. How long has it been since you’ve been back?”
He spins, glaring at me. “What fucking business is it of yours? This is my mom’s house.”
I hold my hands up, indicating I didn’t mean anything by it and take a step back.
In any other situation, I would step forward and let the man who’s talking to me this way know that I won’t tolerate the disrespect, but this situation is different. This isn’t my house, and confrontation because of my own ego doesn’t have a place here.