Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Time for a change of subject. “Hey,” I say, nodding to both my sister and my evil ex. “How’s Harley doing?”
Molly hesitates. “Oh. Um.”
“He’s not in the car by any chance, is he?” I want to see that furry little beast so bad. He’ll remember me, even after five years. I’m positive.
Slowly, she shakes her head. “Blake, I’m sorry to tell you this, but…”
Oh fuck. Don’t tell me he died. My spine tingles with discomfort.
“I gave him to some friends in Vancouver. It was hard to get home from work often enough to walk him.”
“You…” I’m not even sure I heard her right. “You gave away my dog? Without telling me?”
Her mouth opens and closes and then opens again. “You weren’t exactly taking my calls.” Bitterness splashes across her face. “But I guess I should have figured out you’d answer if the call was about the dog.”
Yeah, I would have. Because the dog actually loved me, you lying witch!
My shirt collar is suddenly too small, and my siblings are looking at me the way you watch a volcano that’s about to blow.
“Food!” comes my mother’s ear-piercing shout. “Come and get it!”
“Praise Jesus,” I whisper. I need a change of scenery, even if it’s only the dining room.
We all file in, and I steer Jess toward the opposite end of the table from Molly. When we’re seated, we all join hands for grace. Jess gives my knuckles a squeeze, so of course I pull her hand onto my fly just to tease her.
She pinches me right above the pubes. Hard. I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling.
“Dear Lord,” my mother starts, “thank you for these blessings we are about to receive. We are grateful for another Sunday together with family and for Brenna’s good cheer, even while she looks like a beached whale.”
“Mom!” Brenna gasps.
My mom opens her eyes and gives Brenna a wink. “We pray for the safe delivery of our grandbaby as he makes his way into the world and for a victory tomorrow night over the Canucks, who should NEVER HAVE WON THAT LAST ONE! AMEN!”
I hear Jess stifle a snort.
The second grace is over, dishes are passed. I offer Jess the platter of ham and then a healthy portion of my father’s smoky ribs.
“This looks amazing,” my girlfriend says.
As the platter moves down the table, I watch my sister Brenna put a tiny dot of potato salad on her plate and then pass it.
“You okay?” I ask. The Rileys are big eaters, and if Brenna is off her chow, then I’m worried. My gaze lowers to the huge swollen basketball under her shirt. “And how long was I on that road trip? You look fifty pounds heavier.”
Her jaw falls open. “Who says that to a pregnant woman?”
“Oh, shut it. You’re gorgeous and you know it. But you look bigger.”
After a long pause, she lets out a tired sigh. “I am bigger,” she admits. “I’ve gained about five pounds in the last couple of days.” She rubs the right side of her abdomen and leans back in her chair. “My hands and feet are swollen. I’ve had a tummy ache every day this week. And I think the morning sickness is back—I threw up twice this morning.”
Concern tugs at me. “Is that normal?”
Brenna rubs her belly again. “Charlie thinks it’s my stomach rebelling against all the greasy shit I’ve been putting into it.”
“He could be right. Maybe cut out the Mickey D’s and eat some veggies?” Britt suggests from her seat beside me. “See if it helps?”
Our sister nods. “Mom made a salad because I asked her to.”
“Oh!” Molly leaps out of her chair and carries the salad bowl over to Brenna. As if passing it the normal way wouldn’t do. “Is there anything else you need?”
Brenna shakes her head, giving my ex a sweet smile. “You’ve spoiled me rotten already this week.”
“Well,” Molly says, returning to her chair, “I remember how hard it was to be pregnant.”
The fork stops halfway to my mouth.
I have to play back her words for a second just to be sure she actually said them. But it’s true. She sat at my family table and told a bald-faced lie. Again. My sisters are staring at her right now, pity on their faces.
When she moved away to Vancouver, I thought this shit was over. Several thousand miles of distance between us had allowed me to forget just how conniving she was. But now she’s back, still trying to hang on to a lie she told herself. It’s sick.
And it’s never going to end.
There’s a sudden zing of pain in my neck, and I drop my fork with a clatter. “Cheezus,” I swear.
“Blake,” Brenna warns as I get out of my chair. “Where are you going?”
“Advil,” I mumble, heading for the doorway. The truth is I need a minute away from Molly to regroup. Things can’t go on like this.