Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
To be honest, even if Janelle weren’t here, I’d still have no interest. I’ve seen how toxic relationships can be. I’ve seen the absolute worst, and I don’t want any part of it. I’m not the type of man who would ever hope for better, because I’ve never seen any evidence that better exists.
Grudgingly, I will admit that some of the guys on this team seem happy with the women in their lives. Good for them.
It probably won’t last.
John waves again, and I start to panic, but someone taps me on the shoulder, and I turn to see Jim and his wife, Ella, standing there.
Thank fuck.
Jim Steele is one of my line mates, and Ella seems pretty cool. It’s their daughter Lucy who Janelle is with right now. Granted, Lucy is four years younger than Janelle, but they seemed to get along very well when they met at the Fan Day carnival last month. It was the only other time Janelle accompanied me to a team event.
“I see you lost your date,” Ella says with a bright smile, nodding over to the kids.
I return her smile, although most of my smiles are forced these days. “Yeah… not cool to hang out with your brother at these parties, apparently.”
Jim slaps me on the shoulder and teases, “You could have brought a real date. I could hook you up if you’re interested.”
I grimace. “Definitely not interested. Got my hands full raising a sister.”
I wince internally over the tone of my last words because it makes it sound like Janelle is a burden, and she most definitely is not. But there are frustrations as we learn to live together—and a ton of guilt on my part that I didn’t take her away sooner.
Ella is perceptive, and she picks up on it before I can say anything that might have blown off my tone.
Her expression becomes sympathetic. “Teenagers can be tough.”
And I cannot stop myself from saying, “I’m not even sure tough is the right word to describe it. More like a headache that comes and goes, making me want to bang my skull against a wall, which might actually feel better.”
Jim hoots with laughter. Ella swats at him, her face wise and understanding.
She asks a question that puts her in territory no one has dared to go before with me. “Has she been with you long?”
I’m not about to give details, but I manage to explain, “She came after I moved to Arizona—late July. She’s having a bit of a hard time adjusting.”
Ella is all class. She nods and doesn’t ask a follow-up question about our circumstances, for which I’m eternally grateful.
Instead, she moves back to the terrors of raising a teenager. “What type of teenager things is she exhibiting?” Ella inquires. “Being secretive? Talking disrespectfully? Sullen and withdrawn?”
“All of the above,” I mutter woefully. “And about five other things.”
Ellen nods sagely, as does Jim, who announces, “Congratulations… you definitely have a teenage girl in your home.”
A surge of relief runs through me. I’ve been validated that Janelle is behaving like a normal teenager should, and it means perhaps there’s hope for me to figure out how to make things better for her.
The surge apparently makes me a blathering idiot, and I start to unload. “Janelle is in a tough position. She’s not made any real friends, and the ones who she wants to be friends with are exactly the type I don’t want her near. I’m having a hard time keeping my finger on the pulse of things because we travel half the season. The woman I hired to watch her is very strict, and Janelle isn’t reacting well to that after she was given way too much freedom under my mother’s watch. I have no answers, and Janelle is so withdrawn, I don’t even know how to figure out what the appropriate questions are. One minute she seems perfectly happy, and the next I feel like she hates me. It’s very confusing.”
Ella crosses her arms and tips her head as if completely invested in the conversation. “What exactly does she say when you ask her about it?”
I blink, then again, as if I don’t quite understand the question.
When I blink a third time, a crushing wave of embarrassment sweeps through me as I admit, “I haven’t asked her. She’s not the easiest to talk to.”
It’s at this moment that I realize without having to be told, I suck as a parent.
Both Ella and Jim have matching frowns, and for the first time, Jim chimes in. “You haven’t talked to her about her attitude or what’s bothering her?”
I shrug helplessly. Clearly, I’ve done it all wrong.
“You need to sit down and talk to her, Riggs,” Ella says gently. Maybe gentler than I need, but she’s trying to soften the blow that I might be a dumbass. “She may not tell you anything, but you’ve got to ask. And if she doesn’t tell you anything, you have to ask again and again and again.”