Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 49294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 246(@200wpm)___ 197(@250wpm)___ 164(@300wpm)
“Lennie.” Minnie moves away from Clay and starts toward me. She’s the younger sister, but lately, it’s been me using her as a shoulder to cry on instead of the other way around.
“Minnie,” I reply, not in a back-off kind of way, more or less telling her that this is my problem and I need her to live her life to the fullest. A slight tilt of her head is the only recognition I receive while she stays with Clay. My emotions are too strong, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the tears at bay if she hugs me again.
“Alright, so we’ll take one rental car. You all take the other to run your errands and whatnot,” Trey delegates.
“I’m getting on the phone now to cancel our flight home or reschedule it. Whatever your mom wants to do,” Poppa Russell says.
“If you can cancel, let’s do that. I kind of like what Clementine did, driving through the States. Sounds like it’d be romantic,” Catherine says with a flick of her wrist.
“Well, Minnie can tell you all about that,” I tease. The group goes about talking, and since they’re planning everything, I walk down the few steps until my feet hit the concrete and plant my ass on the last step. The bungalow-style house is enriched with history. There isn’t an open floor plan or gray walls or even painted-over wood. I’ll give it to Aunt Estelle; she kept the house as original as possible, right down to the appliances, which still work. The only issues are the leaking faucet, which I’d have done a quick search online for on how to fix it before calling a plumber. Then there’s the need of painting nearly every square inch. It wouldn’t impede on me living in the house. I can do one room at a time on the weekends until it’s finished. The yard is most definitely going to need my attention immediately.
The lawyer stated the yard company was hired through the end of the month, except when I came here last week, I noticed the grass is tall, too tall for this time of year. A quick phone call turned into their number being disconnected, which meant that money is long gone and so is the service.
I’m shaken out of my stupor when Clay’s big body sits down beside me, his shoulder bumping mine. “Keep your chin up and let them help. I know this can be a lot, but let them. This is Catherine and Russell’s deal. They help others. It’s ingrained in them to give back.” He looks my way before continuing, “We’re down here because we want to be. I get what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. Clementine does, too, but don’t push everyone away, Lennon. She needs you as much as you need her.”
“Thank you.” Clay looks at me with arched eyebrows. “For loving my sister. For creating a family. For everything you’ve done for not only her but me, too.”
“Nothing I wouldn’t do for the Sinclair sisters. I am going to take you up on the offer of us going back home. I’ll take the other knuckleheads with us, but you have to make a deal with me first.” Clay is up to something.
“Uh-oh, I’m not sure if I should be excited or scared with this line of conversation,” I joke, trying to break up the heaviness that seems to be clouding the sunny skies. Obviously, the cloud is me and my wayward thoughts.
“It’s not bad, just a safeguard. You call anytime, day or night, Lennon. I don’t care if it’s a light flickering, a toilet handle jiggling weirdly, you need money, any damn thing. You call and we’re here, yeah?” He holds my eyes. I’m unable to look away, or I’ll be admitting defeat in my own little fucked-up world.
“I will, but I need you to hear me out.” Clay goes to stop me from talking when I raise my hand, asking for him to listen. “This is your honeymoon phase. Please take the time for the two of you. I’m going to be fine. I’m working on me and now this house. I will be taking Momma Catherine and Poppa Russell up on their offer, I’d be a fool not to. They won’t be staying the entire time with me either. Everyone has a life to live. My speed bump is just that—a speed bump. Okay?” I follow up his question with one of my own.
“Alright, sis, we’re in agreement. Now I’m going to get this show on the road.” Clay stands up, offers his hand, takes his cowboy hat off like the true gentleman he is, and helps me up off the step.
“Thank you. Those two words will never be enough, but thank you all the same.” We head toward the group, and when we go about saying our goodbyes, I hold on to my sister a bit longer.