Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“I told you that you should have let Cass do the marketing earlier.”
Granny just shrugs. “Paper?”
“There’s a pad of it in the desk drawer. All fancy colors because I thought they would look cool.”
Granny smiles sweetly at me as she tucks the book under her arm. “Have a good time, dear. I’d say be home before dark, but I know that will cramp your grown-up sexy time, so I’ll say be home before morning instead, but maybe that will cramp things too, so just please be here when we open tomorrow, yeah?”
I shudder at the thought that Granny can read my mind, and right now, it’s very much going on a train of thought that involves me getting very excited about planting flowers with Victoria. And enjoying the field of wildflowers behind her house that she was talking about. Our first proper date, kind of. Unless lunch counted? I didn’t specifically label that a date, though, so I guess this is our first real one.
I had planned on making the most of it, but now I feel like trash warmed over—trashier than the trash panda that came through the ceiling and interrupted us the first time and trashier than leftover trash, all the trash.
“It will work itself out. You’ll find a way,” Granny tells me as she clamps her hand on my shoulder. “I have faith in you. You’re my adopted grandson, kind of also a son, and you’re a good man. You’ll figure out how to unspool the spooled-out threads you’ve been weaving and unplug your butthole, and that brain of yours will do what it’s always done and start working hard at problem-solving again. I have faith that this will be the case.”
What a way to say so, but that’s just Granny for you.
However she said it, I really hope her faith isn’t misplaced.
I need to be better. Do better. In all aspects, especially with my family. I’ve been a lone island, and I was never designed to function that way.
Most of all, I need to find a way to tell Victoria the truth, or at least as much of the truth as I can figure out how to divulge without giving us away entirely.
CHAPTER 13
Victoria
By the time the flower and vegetable gardens are planted, we look like two dirty dogs. I practically crawl out of the garden, massaging the small of my back and bending my shoulders in an arc while thrusting my hips out to try and get rid of the massive kink that lodged itself back there a few hours ago. It’s still so sore that it nearly makes me whimper when I press my fist into the spot. I guess maybe it was a little ambitious to do all the gardens in one shot, but I wasn’t sure how long the flowers would last. They were already wilting and drooping after a long ride home in my and Atlas’ car trunk because we split the load so that nothing got overly damaged on the ride back to my house.
My house.
It’s still pretty crazy for me to look at this place with all the fancy new shingles and paint and shiny new porches and now pretty flower gardens overflowing with flowers and lush grass as far as the eye can see, and believe it’s all mine.
I snap a few photos from different angles as soon as I can make myself walk properly again, and because I can’t help myself, and maybe I am a little bit miffed that my parents haven’t found time to come out and visit me yet, even though I’ve called and sent them enough texts to just about blow up both their phones, I send a few of the best ones off to my mom.
I realize how childish it is the second the photos go through, so I quickly type a quick text under it.
Surprise! The house and the yard got a facelift. I’m busy tonight, but I’m free tomorrow and the next day if you want to check it out. Doing good out here and loving it. Thanks for the best gift ever! I think auntie would be proud. At least I hope she’s not still bad haunting the place. Good haunting is acceptable.
I shut off my phone before I’m tempted to make further jokes about raccoon haunting. I think that’s enough info for my parents for one night. I know they won’t show up here once I tell them I am busy, but when I turn my phone back on, there will probably be no fewer than six million texts.
“You okay?” Atlas walks up behind me, all big and sexy and smelling like spices and earth. It’s a potent combination, almost as potent as the scruffy—I haven’t shaved in like one point eight days, but it’s okay because I can rock a bit of facial hair like a boss—look that he has going on right now. My ovaries basically swoon.