Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
“It’s all good.” I motion with my chin toward the door. “Are you ready to go eat?”
“Yes, I’m starving. Do you know where you want to go?”
“I figured we’d walk down the street and stop wherever sounds good if that works.”
“Totally.” I shorten my stride, and she falls into step beside me.
“Did you share the news of your acceptance with anyone?”
“I called my aunt.” She tips her head back to look up at me. “She’s happy for me, and I left a message for my mom. I haven’t heard back from her yet.”
“I’m sure she will be proud.”
“Probably.” She shrugs as I wrap my hand around her elbow to maneuver her around a crowd of people gathered in the middle of the sidewalk. When we reach one of the first restaurants, I stop at the menu posted outside.
“Do you like Italian?” I look down at her.
“I do,” she says, but her attention goes a bit farther down the street. “But there’s a Greek place down a little ways that is supposed to be really good.” Her gaze meets mine once more. “Do you like Greek food?”
“I love all food.”
“Do you mind if we check out the menu there?”
“Not at all.” We fall into step once more. When we get to the restaurant, she takes her time looking at the menu. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” She looks up and down the street. “I’m so hungry everything sounds good, and now I can’t decide if I want a gyro, pasta primavera, or a burger from the spot down the street I order from sometimes.”
“Pick a number between one and three.”
Her pretty brown eyes meet mine. “Two.”
“Greek, it is.” Her nose scrunches, making me laugh. “You don’t want a gyro?”
She looks at the menu we’re still in front of, then at me. “Maybe you should just pick; otherwise, we might never eat.”
“All right.” I take her elbow and walk with her past two more restaurants to a diner I know offers almost every kind of food item you could ask for. My teammates and I went there one night after hanging out and drinking. “Have you been here?” I ask when we stop at the podium at the front.
“No, never. Is the food good?”
“Yeah, and they have a huge menu, so you should be able to find something.” I hover my hand over her lower back when the girl at the front takes us to one of the booths and then wait for her to sit before sliding into my seat.
After we order drinks—her a Coke and me just water—I watch her look over the menu, already knowing what I’ll get.
“Do you want to share an appetizer?”
“Sure,” I agree, and she sets her menu aside. “What did you decide on?”
“The French dip.” She smiles when I laugh.
“Is your mom back in Minnesota?” I ask after the waitress comes over with our drinks and takes our orders.
“Yeah, she lives there with her fiancé and his daughter.”
“Where is your dad?”
Her expression falls slightly. “He passed away when I was young.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Time doesn’t always make it easier.”
“You’re right about that.” Her smile is sad.
“So, if your mom is back in Minnesota, who do you know here?” I ask to change the subject and to get that sad look out of her eyes.
“My aunt Ileana,” she says as the waitress comes over to drop off the mozzarella sticks Reese ordered for an appetizer.
“Are you two close?”
“Yeah. She and my dad were twins, and with my dad gone, we only got closer over the years.” Her smile is fond. “She’s kind of always been like a second mom to me. I obviously lived with my real mom, but when I was growing up, I would fly to California, where my aunt was living at the time, and spend my summers with her. Or if I had a long break from school, she would come to Minnesota to visit, or we would travel.”
“That’s cool.”
“She’s the best.” She picks up a cheese stick, tears it in half, and then blows on it as she looks at me. “What about your family?”
“My parents live in Kentucky. I have a brother who lives in Chicago with his wife and my niece, who just turned two. And a sister who just moved to Nashville to live with her boyfriend.”
“Why did you say boyfriend like that?” she asks, covering her mouth with her hand as she chews.
“I don’t like him. He’s self-centered and thinks he’s God’s gift. My sister could do better, but she likes the lifestyle he offers, so she’s put up with a bunch of shit she shouldn’t have had to.”
I watch her nose scrunch. “Does she love him?”
“She says she does.”
“Then you’ll never change her mind about him, and if you try, it will just create a rift between the two of you.”