Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
I gave in and indulged in two sips of an espresso that Randall made for me. Reid wasn’t kidding when he said Randall should stick to anything but preparing brewed beverages. He doesn’t have a future as a barista.
“I got the picture!” Randall announces in a loud voice. He gets up from where he’s been sitting by the dining room table. “Look, Charlotte.”
Lottie rushes over to her fiancé to fling an arm around his shoulder before leaning down to get a clear view of his phone’s screen. “Look at you two. You haven’t changed a bit. Reid, on the other hand, has.”
That piques my attention enough I take a step closer to where they are. I don’t ask to see, though, because knowing Lottie, I’ll get a peek at in within the next ten seconds.
My prediction comes true as she snatches the phone out of Randall’s hand and sprints toward where I’m standing near the entrance to the kitchen. “Evie, look at what Randall’s mom sent him. It’s a picture of him and Reid when they were here years ago.”
Eager to see, I meet her halfway and bow my head to gaze at the phone’s screen. Two boys are standing side by side in the sand with the ocean as their backdrop. They both need haircuts, and they’re wearing matching striped blue and red swimming trunks. The boy on the right is slightly taller, his shoulders are broader, and he’s not smiling with the same exuberance as the boy on the left. I immediately know my boss is the boy who is radiating sorrow.
“Wow,” I manage to say.
“That’s a blast from the past.” Randall chuckles as a door slams in the distance. “It sounds like Reid is back. I can’t wait to show him the picture.”
Not more than a few seconds later, Reid rounds the corner and comes into view, holding a cardboard tray with two cups of coffee, a pink box tied with white string, and a dozen beautiful pink roses.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Reid
All eyes are on me as I enter the dining room. I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve been gone a hell of a lot longer than I anticipated I would be. The gas station I thought I’d be able to grab a box of condoms at permanently closed down years ago.
I found that out when I wandered into a drugstore in a nearby town, and the woman behind the checkout counter gave me a long-winded lesson on the history of this part of Long Island. I blame that on myself since I’m the one who mentioned the boarded up gas station.
I tempted fate by asking her where I could get a good cup of coffee. That’s when I found out her name. Judy Saccone. It seems her brother runs a charming café that does indeed sell a great cup of coffee. I enjoyed my first cup courtesy of Judy since she took a break from her job at the drug store to walk me over to the coffee shop.
We sat and talked until I told her that I needed to head back to the beach house. She insisted I stop in the bakery next door to the café to sample one of the freshly baked chocolate chip cookies her sister prepared this morning. Joanne is the name of the bakery’s owner.
Another hour was spent there, and our last stop was a floral shop owned by the youngest of the Saccone siblings. After Judy’s guided tour of the hotspots of her hometown, I bought her a dozen yellow roses to thank her. As I paid for those, I spotted the pink ones in the display case. I bought them for Evangeline without considering how the hell I’d explain the purchase without focusing a lens on what is happening between us.
The way Charlotte is eyeing up the flowers makes me think she’s about to claim them as her own, so I get in front of that. “I picked up pink roses for you, Evangeline.”
“What?” Charlotte’s drawls that one word out at the top of her lungs. “Why? I have a million questions.”
Obviously, Evie doesn’t want to answer any of them in detail because she takes over the explanation. “I asked him to get me the flowers. I thought they’d look beautiful next to my bed.”
I recognize the expression on Charlotte’s face as pity. Judging by the extravagant bouquets of white flowers that dot the interior of this home, Randall knows what she likes when it comes to anything floral.
“There are a few vases in the kitchen,” Randall says as he gets out of a chair next to the table. “I’ll show you where. Charlotte, why don’t you show Reid that picture on my phone?”
I’d rather not see it because I sense I know what picture he’s talking about. Randall’s mom gave my grandma a copy of it years ago. She put it in a silver frame and gave it a prominent spot on the mantle. It’s an image of Randall and me on the beach, not more than a few feet from the deck of his house. The only thing that picture reminds me of is how ungrateful I was at the time for what I had in my life.