Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
“You were happy?”
“Yeah, I was happy. It was the only time that I was. She would often tell me it wasn’t my fault. She was my mother’s mother, and I think she felt a little responsible seeing as my mom was an addict.”
“Did she make her that way?” Evil asked.
Noelle shook her head. “My grandmother was a saint. I think the problem with my mom was that she fell into the wrong crowd and never fell out. It was like that all the time. They would fight a lot. Mom would say some nasty things to her. Grandma cried a lot after that. It was usually when she was trying to convince my mom to be better, you know. It was hard, watching them.”
“You miss her.”
“I do. Not my mom. When my grandma passed, I cried. I couldn’t stop crying. I cried so hard some days that my parents kicked me out of the house just so they could have some peace and quiet. My mom never cried. The heartless bitch.” She stopped, pressing her lips together. “Every September, I know it’s probably crazy, but I swear I can still smell the scent of cooking apples or the horrible smell of vinegar. Grandma, without fail, would be there. I’d turn up, and there’d be a cookie. A cookie, some milk, and a smile. Those days were good.”
Evil saw the pain in her eyes.
Noelle had truly loved someone. “I’m named after her, you know. Grandma Noelle. I think my mom did it as a cruel joke. I don’t know. We never got along.” She stared past his shoulder and frowned. “When my parents died, I didn’t care. I didn’t shed a single tear. I never placed a flower on their graves. I was … free. Happy they were gone.” She took a deep breath.
“They hurt you,” Evil said. “They didn’t deserve your pain.”
“I don’t think people see it that way.”
“I don’t give a fuck how people see it. It’s the truth.” Evil shrugged.
“You never had a grandma Noelle, did you?” she asked.
“No.”
“Anyone.”
“Nothing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I learned to live. I learned to survive, and that is what led me to you.”
Noelle laughed.
“Do you know how to can?” Evil asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I do.”
“Have you ever done it without your grandma?”
Noelle shook her head. “No, I haven’t. I don’t know why.” She shrugged. “I, er, I think one day when I have a family, I might do it. She taught me, and I don’t want all of that knowledge to be left with just me. I do have her recipe books.”
Evil watched as Noelle glanced behind her. She turned back toward him, her hand hovering over the pot of noodles she’d been eating. He watched her, seeing the struggle inside her, and he couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Noelle?”
She looked up toward him.
“What’s the matter?”
She shook her head. “Nothing is the matter. Everything is fine.”
He knew she was lying to him, but he wasn’t going to force her to talk to him. Evil had been aware that her grandmother had passed while Noelle had been a young age. What he didn’t realize was how close she’d been to the older woman.
Even now, he saw the tears in her eyes, the sadness for a woman she hadn’t gotten to spend a whole lot of time with, and his heart went out to her. Her parents didn’t deserve Noelle, but from the sound of her grandmother, she did.
“Actually, I’ll be back.” Noelle put her food down on the table, pushed back her chair, and disappeared into the bedroom.
Evil had an idea of what she was going to get, but he also couldn’t be certain.
Sitting back, he watched the door, waiting.
Her pain was so clear. Evil would do anything to make sure she never felt that way again. Anything.
He tapped his fingers against his carton of rice and thought about the ring inside his desk drawer. Evil had purchased it six months ago. Noelle was more than some fun to him. She was his entire world, but he had a feeling she didn’t even see it.
Evil knew he had to change that. He had to make her see that he wanted a lot more than some fun sex.
****
She had packed them away with all of her belongings. The recipe books. Noelle hadn’t opened them in years.
Her mother had been ready to toss them out as if they were trash. Her parents had been vultures around Grandma Noelle’s things. Jewelry had been pawned, so had the furniture. Everything that had value was sold, and all the items that didn’t were dumped or thrown in a fire.
The recipe books that had Grandma Noelle’s recipes had nearly gone in the trash. Noelle kept them, hid them away.
There had been a few times she had pulled them out, but the pain had been too raw. After getting to her feet, she walked into his bedroom, toward the back of the closet, and pushed aside a box she had hidden them behind.