Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Granny was always willing to tell me stories about my mom and the things she had done with me. It was because of Granny that I had the memories I did. She made sure I didn’t forget her, and Mom hadn’t even been her daughter. My mom had never known her parents, but Dad’s parents loved my mother like she was their own. Granny always said my momma was like a ray of sunshine that could light up any old, dreary day. No matter how bad it was, my momma had brought the happiness with her. I liked to think about that. Especially when the day was as dreary as this one was turning out to be.
Leaving for college had been hard enough. I missed Wilder every day. Sneaking home without my dad’s permission just to see Wilder last month had made my stepmother furious, and Dad told me not to come home again until I was on a break. By now, it really shouldn’t sting when my dad didn’t want me around, but I wasn’t sure that rejection would ever go away.
Wilder had been thrilled to see me though. We spent twenty-four amazing hours together. He had refused to do more than kiss me, and he’d sworn it wasn’t because he didn’t want me, but because he was respecting me. Giving me time to grow up more. I was eighteen. How much more grown did I have to be?
This visit home from college was different though. Just like how his texts and calls had dwindled the past week. Normally, I woke up to a text from him every morning, and we had a video call daily. But this week, we hadn’t had one. He texted me a handful of times, and when I’d asked him if everything was all right, he’d just said he was busy. That was it.
My stomach had been in knots since I had gotten home last night. I had wanted to come home sooner, but I didn’t have a car, and I had used all my extra money on last month’s bus ticket to come see him. I’d called him when I got here, and he hadn’t answered.
So, I had been at the mercy of Anthony Jordan to give me a ride on his way home to Atlanta. He was a junior, and I’d met him through my roommate, who had dated him last semester. They weren’t together anymore, but I kept in touch with him because he was the only person I knew at Ole Miss who had a car and lived close enough for me to get a ride back to Madison.
His work had kept him there until yesterday afternoon, so we hadn’t arrived until late last night. Wilder had replied to my text an hour ago, saying he’d be here in time for Thanksgiving lunch. Cleo always put out a big spread of food at lunch and had her friends over on Thanksgiving. I wanted to have Wilder all to myself, but I knew I was expected to be here for the meal. Not because they wanted to spend time with me, but because it would look bad if I didn’t attend and folks knew I was in town.
I’d taken extra time to curl my hair and put on some makeup. By the time I was ready and felt as if my reflection was pretty, I headed for the stairs to go down and wait for Wilder. I would ask Cleo if there was something I could do to help, but she would tell me to just stay out of the way. I was so anxious to see him that I decided to wait on the front porch. That way, the moment he drove up, I would be there.
Sylvia’s bedroom door opened as I passed it, and I forced myself to smile at her. I had managed to avoid both her and Cleo since my arrival last night. Trying with those two was something I’d given up on years ago. They didn’t want me around, and they had been clear on their feelings.
“Who’s the new boy this week?” Sylvia asked in a sugary-sweet voice that she used when trying to pretend she was nice.
I frowned. “What?”
She lifted one of her shoulders. “Some boy brought you home. I just assumed he was this week’s flavor.”
I stared at her, trying to figure out where she was going with this. She knew Wilder was the only guy I was interested in. I’d faced down her mother over coming to see him last month.
“Anthony is a friend who lives in Atlanta. He gave me a ride,” I told her, annoyed already.
“Mmhmm … I’m sure that’s all he is,” she purred.
I refused to stand here and defend myself to her of all people. Rolling my eyes, I left her there and headed downstairs. If I was lucky, I could make it outside before seeing Cleo.