Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Bree didn’t even bother to hide her smile. “She’s super cute.”
Frowning, I gave Bree the finger I hadn’t given her husband.
“What?” She laughed. “I think it’s great. She’ll keep you young. What are kids these days into, anyway?”
“She’s not a kid—she’s twenty-two. And she’s not just cute, she’s cool and she’s funny and she’s great with the girls.”
“Wow.” Her eyes lit up. “Lucky you, moving in next door to someone like that.”
“She’s moving out soon,” I said quickly.
Bree’s face fell. “Oh. How come?”
“She got a job offer in Rhode Island.”
“Well, shoot.” Bree sighed. “I guess that’s that.”
“That’s that. Come on, let’s go outside.”
“Okay, but I have to tell you one thing.” Her expression put me on edge.
“What?”
“Dad called me.”
I scowled. “For money?”
“No. He’s sick.”
“Tough.” I took another drink. “With what?”
“Lung cancer. It’s terminal.”
Something like pity tugged at my heart, and I shut it down immediately.
“He asked to see us. And his grandkids.” She hesitated, took a breath. “I’m thinking about it.”
“Well, I don’t need to think. My answer is no.”
“Dexter,” she said softly. “He’s our father, and he has terminal cancer. Don’t you think we should be there for him?”
“The way he was there for us or for Mom, when she was sick?” I asked pointedly.
She pressed her lips together. “I know he’s not perfect. He knows he’s not perfect. He understands he’s made mistakes.”
“This is what he does, Bree. He makes you believe that he’s sorry and he’s changed, but in the end, he’s the same guy he always was, and that guy sucks.” I shook my head. “I don’t need to say goodbye.”
“Did you know he got married?” She looked up at me with hope in her blue eyes, and it killed me to see it—she looked like our mom did every single time he came back.
“No.”
“Last year. He met her at AA, I guess. Her name is Gloria, and she sounds nice. They live about two hours away.”
“You talked to her too?”
“She wrote me a letter, asking if it would be okay for Dad to call. She said from the moment they met, he’s talked about all the regrets he has about his kids. She told me about his cancer and begged me to consider reconciling with him before it’s too late.”
I steeled myself. “You can. I won’t. And he’s not coming near my kids.”
She moved closer, placing a hand on my arm. “Please just think about it. For me. I don’t know if I can do it without you.”
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to keep those walls in place. She was my baby sister, and my instinct was to protect her, but I couldn’t if she chose that path. “Sorry, Bree. I can’t.”
The rest of the day was ruined by my conversation with my sister. I sat outside with everyone, but I didn’t talk, I didn’t laugh at anyone’s jokes, and I avoided meeting Winnie’s eyes. She could tell something was up with me, and a couple times she asked if I was okay, but I brushed her off. Mostly I just looked out onto the lawn where the kids were playing, determined not to let anyone hurt my girls, ever—especially not my father. He’d done enough damage. And I didn’t care if he was sorry now. It was too late—he didn’t deserve them.
The guy is dying, asshole. Are you that devoid of compassion?
But all it took was thinking about my mother alone in her hospital room, her body weak from two years of chemo and radiation that hadn’t cured her, her shaky voice asking if we’d heard from him, to harden my resolve. He hadn’t been there for her in the end. I didn’t have to be there for him. If that made me a heartless bastard, so be it.
At one point, I went into the house to use the bathroom, and as I was coming back through the kitchen, Winnie was coming in. “Hey,” she said, looking at me with concern. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
“I already said it was,” I snapped.
“I know, but you don’t seem like you’re having much fun.”
“Well, you don’t know me.”
Her expression went from worried to hurt. “Dex, I just—”
“Look, just because we fucked doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything. Leave me alone.” Hating myself, I shouldered by and went back outside.
When she came out a few minutes later, the color had drained from her face, and her nose looked a little pink, like maybe she’d been crying. She didn’t sit next to me like she had been before—instead she took a seat next to my sister and asked if she could hold the baby.
Furious and having only myself to blame, I slouched lower in my chair like a toddler in time-out and ignored everyone.
I was in such a shitty mood, I didn’t even stay as late as I could have, despite the fact that Naomi never sent a pestering text. Around four, I collected the girls, who complained about leaving and crabbed the whole way home, which only made me crankier. I yelled at them to stop fucking whining, which made Luna cry and Hallie give me the evil eye in the rearview mirror.