Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Lo . . .”
“Michael and Maddie will be graduating soon and moving out. If we stay in this same pattern where our lives continue on as it is . . . what’s left for me? Of me? Story Books, I hope. But who knows if I can make a long-term run at professional scrapbooking.” I laugh, wiping my nose with the back of my hand like a lady. “But what else is there? More nights alone? More tears in the shower? Another meal standing at the island watching videos on my phone, so I forget how lonely—how forgotten—I am?”
“You are not forgotten.”
“Really?” I smile sadly. “Did you realize I stopped calling you at night six months ago?”
His Adam’s apple bobs.
“When was the last time we had our Wednesday lunch date?” I ask.
His shoulders drop.
“I was on national TV, Jack, and you didn’t mention it.” My voice breaks, hiccuping the hurt. “You forget I’m there. You can say you don’t, but you do.”
He reaches for me, but the wildness in his eyes makes me pull away.
“I love you,” I say, tears falling freely. “But I feel so broken. I can’t break myself to build you anymore.”
“Lauren . . .”
I don’t hear the rest of the sentence. The screen door slamming behind me echoes loudly into the night.
And Jack doesn’t follow me.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LAUREN
Here you go, Snaps,” Maddie says, pouring water from her bottle into a collapsible bowl. “It’s hot out here, buddy.”
The puppy plops a foot in the bowl before drinking, his little tail shaking happily. His fur presses against his body from a swim in the lake with Maddie. I’m not sure that I’ve ever seen a happier puppy.
Water laps against the side of the boat. The sun glows overhead in a hazy, muted kind of way that is amazing against my skin. I stretch out on the bench and get repositioned on my towel.
We left the cabin after breakfast and headed for Story Brook Lake. Michael put up a small fight, wanting to spend his day with Ava instead. But once Pops alerted him to the fact that Ava would be in town at piano lessons—something he’d heard from Mrs. Shaw—Michael capitulated.
“It’s been a nice day, huh?” Maddie asks, situating herself on the bench across from me.
I grin. “It really has.”
“It’s better with the boys in the other boat.” Snaps curls at her feet. “I’m always afraid they’re going to stick me with a lure when they’re casting.”
“That happened to your dad once.”
“It did?”
I nod, tugging my hat over my eyes. “Well, your dad did the sticking. Pops got stuck.”
Maddie laughs. “Makes perfect sense. I mean, have you seen Dad fish? His patience doesn’t translate well to the sport.”
Chuckling, I rest my hands on my stomach and breathe in the fresh, sunblock-scented air.
I woke up this morning with a lightness I wasn’t expecting. When I came back to the cabin last night, Jack was waiting at the table. There wasn’t time to talk, thankfully, because the kids returned soon after I did. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say anyway.
They convinced us to play euchre—me and Michael against Jack and Maddie. After four games, a bottle of wine, and reheated lasagna, I wasn’t any closer to knowing how to follow up on our earlier conversation. Nor was I closer to wanting to hear his rebuttal. And when we went to bed with a welcome buzz fueled by alcohol, carbohydrates, and laughter, I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
“Hey, Mads,” Michael calls from the other boat. “Come here and see this.”
Maddie scoops up the puppy and carefully climbs into her brother’s boat.
“Jack, can you grab me a drink?” Pops asks. “This heat is starting to get to me.”
“Do you need to go back, Pops?” Maddie asks.
“It probably wouldn’t hurt anything to head on back. You kids can stay out here, if ya want.”
The boat rocks with Jack’s weight. I close my eyes just in case I can catch a glimpse of him under the brim of my hat.
“You want a drink, Lo?” Ice rattles in the cooler. “Michael, catch this for Pops.”
A spray of ice-cold water drips across my body as the bottle flies above me. Water droplets sit on my skin, quickly drying in the heat.
“Sorry about that,” Jack says, making it clear he’s not at all sorry.
I ignore him.
I’ve had a lot of time today on the water to think about last night. Vocalizing my feelings to Jack—and having him listen—freed me in a surprising way. The vault of bullshit I’ve harbored inside me for years was emptied. The crap is still there, lying around my soul like rubbish. None of it was picked up, so to speak. But at least it’s not stacked so high that it’s choking me out.
My thoughts, my marriage—it’s all more manageable today. It’s clearer. It’s as if those words I spewed at Jack relieved me of some of my burdens. I can now see other things.