Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Jeremy only sighed, so Jean let himself out of the car and went inside. As disconcerting as Jeremy’s perfect house was, this place was equally offensive. The apartment was as empty now as it’d been last weekend, and Jean could only imagine how quickly Laila’s mood tanked when she walked in this morning. Jean had cash from the sale of his car, and Laila and Cat had received some money from their parents, but they’d spent the week hiding at Jeremy’s house instead of putting this place together.
“Home?” Cat called as she opened her bedroom door.
“Home,” Jean said. “Shower.”
He hated showering this close to therapy, but they had too much to do today for him to put it off. He was in and out as quickly as he could go, and he found the girls sitting in the middle of the living room when he was dressed. Cat texted Cody when they finally left the apartment, then again when they reached the dorms. They’d be borrowing Cody’s car this weekend, since Laila couldn’t replace hers anytime soon. Cody showed them where it was parked before offering Laila the key ring.
“Thank you,” Laila said.
“Keep it as long as you need it,” Cody said. “We can use Pat’s if we need to go anywhere.”
“We’ll have it back tomorrow,” Laila promised.
They were out the rest of the day, to the point they had to pick up both lunch and dinner on the town. Laila drifted from thrift store to box store to the mall and back again, knowing she needed to outfit her new home but desperately craving pieces she could connect to. She had fewer opinions about bedroom sets than she did anything else, so they at least managed to get beds and dressers ordered with a next-week delivery.
Laptops for school were next, and Cat looked for a tower that could handle her games. Jean was quietly horrified by how much these things cost, but equally pleased that he could pay for his own things this time. He’d been reliant on Cat and Laila for everything he needed since his arrival in California. It was nice to take this small burden from them, even if dire circumstances had brought them to this point.
Cat dragged Laila into a bookstore that afternoon, knowing she needed a pleasant distraction after the day’s disappointing progress, and waited with Jean at the in-store café until she was done. They lost another hour trying to further rebuild their wardrobes, during which Jean was mostly left to his own devices. Cat and Laila would occasionally wander over from the women’s section to check on him, but they couldn’t stay long when they also needed to be trying things on. Jean dug for familiar colors and styles, and finally carried his things over to the girls and their cart.
“Starting to think blue is your favorite color,” Cat said, inspecting his finds with obvious approval.
“It is not,” Jean said.
“It’s Jeremy’s,” Laila said as she draped an armload of hangers over one side.
Jean had figured that out, but he only offered a noncommittal, “Hm.”
“I like pink,” Cat said. “Laila’s is purple. What about you?”
Jean frowned as he thought it over, gaze drifting over the assortment of clothes piled in their shopping cart. At last he settled on the only one that made sense: “Brown.” It was not the answer Cat was expecting, judging by her reaction, but Jean didn’t waste his time explaining. Brown like the soil in Rhemann’s garden, or the sand where the tide washed ashore, or the dirt roads Cat had led him down time and again. Brown like the gaze that sought Jean out in every room, but that last thought wasn’t one he could linger on.
“That’s a first,” Cat finally said, and added an obligatory, “I like it.”
“Done here?” Laila asked, looking around like she’d forgotten something.
“Yes,” Jean said, so Cat pushed the cart to the front.
After that there was nothing to do but head home. Despite nine hours shopping, they came home with very little of substance. The only furniture Laila approved of were three lamps and two end tables. She arranged those endlessly while Cat got the curtains hung, and then precariously balanced a new TV on the larger table. The four movies she’d picked up went on the ground beside it, and she stacked her books along the wall.
“Shelves tomorrow,” Laila promised. “Desks, too. I guess we’ll—”
She cut herself off to stare across the apartment. Cat kept working for another minute before realizing something was wrong, and she stepped down off the stool to ask, “What’s wrong?”
Jean was closer to the front door than she was, so he’d heard it, too. “A dog is barking.”
“Babe,” Laila said.
Cat didn’t need her to spell it out. She crossed the room to tug Laila into a brief, fierce hug. “It’s not a good idea, Laila. We’ve got classes and practices and games. How could we possibly take care of an animal with our schedules?” She searched Laila’s face for understanding and tried, “Who would walk it when we’re gone with Away games?”