Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Auggie looks at me like I’m crazy. “That seems like an awfully long time to invest in a master plan, when waking up tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.”
“Nothing worth having is easy to come by.”
Auggie grimaces. “Just, you know, don’t forget to get out there and live sometimes. I know you’re a hard-working, goal-oriented person, and I respect that about you, but life isn’t only about where you’re headed. It’s also about smelling the roses along the way.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“She’s right, though. You can’t always be waiting to be happy once such and such happens. What if it never does?”
“It will.”
“Nothing is guaranteed.”
“It will, Auggie. And don’t worry about me. Knowing I’m doing everything in my power to make my lifelong professional goals a reality makes me happy. Very happy.”
“Yeah, I can tell. The happiness is practically bursting off you like a rainbow.”
I sip my beer. “New topic.”
My brother snickers. “I’ve actually got some piping hot Ashley gossip. Apparently, she’s starting to talk about wanting a baby.”
My eyebrows ride up. From what I’ve been told, our father made it clear to his young third wife before marriage that he didn’t want any more children, and she agreed that was acceptable to her. “How do you know?”
Auggie says, “One of my friends at school is best friends with Ashley’s little sister. I told you about her, remember?” He’s in his first year of veterinary school at the University of Washington. And somehow, despite how busy he is, he still manages to get all our family’s best dirt.
“That’s what happens when you marry a woman who’s twenty-five years younger than you,” I say. “I’m sure Ashley’s biological clock is ticking.”
“Meh. I’m sure Dad will simply throw more money at her expensive hobbies to distract her from the idea. More horseback riding lessons, perhaps? At Grandpa’s birthday party she told me she wants to be in the Olympics.”
“In what sport?”
“Horseback riding. It’s called dressage.”
“Huh?”
“That’s when horses jump over stuff. At least, I think that’s what she said at the party. I wasn’t really listening.”
“If she wants to be in the Olympics, she’d better get on that soon. Time’s running out, babe.”
“She’s such an idiot,” Auggie mutters. “The fact that Dad thought that airheaded gold digger was wife material is pure insanity.”
“Dad cheated on Mom, Auggie. Obviously, Dad’s idea of wife material is very different from ours, or else he would have thanked his lucky stars every fucking day of his life he’d somehow landed a woman of Mom’s caliber.”
My brother looks at me sympathetically, and we have an entire nonverbal conversation in the space of about five seconds. Auggie knows what I had to shoulder at age fifteen. He knows I had to make choices he didn’t. And while my brother has expressed full support and gratitude for the decision I made—the decision to go to our mother with what I’d found out—I do wonder at times if Auggie wishes everything could go back to the way it was when we all thought, wrongly, we had the perfect family.
“I’m here for you, brother,” Auggie says.
“Back at you. I’m good, though. Don’t worry about me.”
“Sorry, it’s part of the job description.” He smiles at me.
“Hey, Auggie?” When he looks at me, his eyebrows raised, clearly thinking I’m going to say something poignant, I tap his leg and bark, “Get your shoes off my coffee table, motherfucker. Show some fucking respect.”
Auggie sits up and slides his feet down. “I think I liked you better when you were distracted.”
Speaking of which . . . Marnie.
Shit.
Okay, that’s it.
I’m now officially forbidding myself from wondering what happened with her, ever again. The world is full of unsolved mysteries, and for my mental health, I need to accept Marnie is one of them. Unsolved. A mystery. Batshit crazy. A woman with a split-personality. Starting now, she’s banished from my brain, forevermore. And that’s that.
6
MARNIE
I flop down next to Dad on his comfy couch. “Ripley’s out like a light.”
Dad chuckles. “She played extra-hard today.”
Dad, Ripley, and I spent a lovely Sunday afternoon on the shores of Lake Washington. This house, Mom and Dad’s dream home, is right near the water’s edge, so the three of us go down to the lakeshore often to picnic and goof around. Whenever we have one of our family lakeshore days, Ripley and I crash here for the night rather than going back to my small apartment, since Ripley usually falls over at the dinner table and I enjoy spending some one-on-one time with Dad. That’s especially true on Sundays during football season, when we can watch the Sunday night game together.
Dad offers me a bowl of popcorn, and we eat and chat while watching the game on TV. At half-time, though, Dad mutes the game, turns to me, and says, “Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you since you got home yesterday, or is it something you’d prefer to keep to yourself?”