Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Profit made from the camp would go into the Hunter Maclay Scholarship Fund to be awarded to one Lawton Lion senior every year. In addition, each youth who wanted to attend the camp but could not afford the cost would be eligible to receive a Hunter Maclay seal of approval that would pay all costs for that child.
Ryker and Nash had spent the past year working on the program and turning the field into a field for young kids to learn the game of football. The Maclays had also put a lot of money behind the project and worked with the Lees to make this something to benefit Lawton and leave a legacy for Hunter.
The official opening ceremony would be open to all of Lawton, and the high school band was going to play. There would be food vendors, fireworks, and special speakers. However, the night before it would be a smaller gathering. Those of us who grew up on that field would be going one more time to spend a night remembering the moments that changed us forever.
The sound of the apartment door swinging open and banging loudly against the side of the building broke into my thoughts, and my head snapped up to see Joe once again standing at the door. He was so big, he filled the doorway, and the sight made me smile. I would miss him.
“You not gonna take the damn hair dryer either?” he asked, holding up a pink hair dryer.
“Joe, when did I ever own a pink hair dryer?”
He looked at it as if he was just now realizing its color. Then he shrugged. “I like pink,” he finally said.
“Then you keep it. I think one of Dex’s Exes left it here a year or so ago,” I explained.
Joe smirked. He loved referring to the list of women Dex had dated as Dex’s Exes. It didn’t take much to amuse Joe. He was always so damn happy and ready for a laugh. That was an energy I would miss being around every day.
“I’ll take it to Gerti,” he said before going back inside.
Gerti was his younger sister. He had five younger siblings, but Gerti was the only girl. His entire family always came for the home games. I had gone out to dinner with them more than once over the years. They reminded me of families I had watched on sitcoms growing up. The kind I hadn’t believed existed.
One day I wanted a family like Joe’s. A wife who loved me and a shit ton of kids being loud as hell. Smiling, I walked back to the apartment to say good-bye before heading back to Lawton.
CHAPTER TWO
EZMITA
As I stepped inside my parents’ store, the smell of cinnamon rolls engulfed me, and I smiled. Home. It had been months since I’d smelled Momma’s famous cinnamon rolls. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to be here until this moment. When my mother’s small body came rushing from the back door to greet the customer and her eyes locked on mine, my chest tightened. A lump formed in my throat, and unshed tears stung my eyes.
“Hey, Momma,” I said, sounding as emotional as I felt.
“Ezmita!” Momma cried out with joy and opened her arms wide as I hurried into them.
“I missed you,” I whispered as she hugged me tightly.
“You stayed away too long this time. But you are here now. Let me feed you. You’re too thin,” she said, pulling back and looking at me. I said nothing as she studied me. It only took a moment, and then she nodded. “I see,” she said. “Come, then. I will send your sister to watch the front and you can tell me how you broke things off with Malecon. It was time.”
I wasn’t surprised my mother knew without my having to tell her that I had finally ended my four-year relationship. She always knew. It was her gift in life. She read the minds of her children, or at least it felt that way most of the time. “Can I have a cinnamon roll?” I asked her, craving the familiar taste.
“I have conchas in the house kitchen. Chocolate ones, just like you love,” she told me. “I woke this morning, and my spirit, it knew you were coming.”
Perhaps it was God or one of the many saints that talked to Momma, and she didn’t read our minds after all. Whatever the reason, I was thankful. At least today. Conchas, my momma, and home were exactly what I needed right now.
“You eat many because you have lost too much weight,” she told me. “TERESA!” Momma yelled for my eighteen-year-old sister. She was the only daughter they had at home now. Rosa attended Saint Mary’s in San Antonio, Texas, and lived with Momma’s older sister and her family in the summers there. They owned a restaurant that had become well-known in Texas, so it stayed busy. Rosa worked as a waitress, and she enjoyed living in Texas. I missed her terribly.