Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
A goodbye note to Archer.
I can’t ghost without saying something.
I scribble fast, hoping he can read my handwriting. I keep it short and simple because I don’t have time and my heart can’t bear a whole essay on why I’m leaving or the thousand and one ways it guts me.
Dear Archer,
This summer with you and Colt has been wonderful, the best weeks of my life. No lie.
But I think we know it’s reaching its expiration. I don’t want to ruin your life more than I already have, so I’m taking myself out of the equation.
I wish you and Colt the happiest days ahead. Please move on, please don’t wait for me, and please remember how to smile. You look so good when you do.
-Winnie
Okay.
Okay, so there might be a few telltale drips that I smear away and smudge the writing slightly, but it’s good enough, right?
I need to get out of here so I can hash out a real escape plan to my future. But before I can make a long drive anywhere, I need to clear my head, and the woods are calling with fresh air and pretty birds and shining stars.
After this last heart-ripping day, I desperately need some time alone with nature.
I leave the note on the counter and turn to leave—only to have my heart fly up my throat when I see who’s there.
Colt, standing in front of me.
He’s holding something out to me. I have to blink several times to see what it is.
Something wooden? A carving?
“You’re crying,” he says in the petrified tone of a boy who doesn’t deal with crying adult women very often.
I sniff, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.
“Um, I—it’s nothing. What’s that?” I croak.
“A bee,” he tells me, setting it gently on the console table in the hall so I can pick it up for a better look. “I’ve been working on it for a few weeks.” His face screws up. “Technically, Dad still has me grounded and limits my time with the TV and phone, so…”
He shrugs so nonchalantly and pushes his glasses up his nose.
I can’t help it, I laugh.
This is pure Colt.
Just like his father, he’s a giant sweetheart pretending he isn’t.
The bee is fantastic, of course. Sanded smooth where it counts and detailed with tiny lines in its wings. Even the eyes are crazy realistic.
“This is fricking amazing,” I say roughly. “Thank you, Colt. Can I give you a hug?”
“Yeah.” He submits to my manic hug, and I squeeze him tight because I’m going to miss him, too.
I’ll mourn the crazy family dynamic in this house and this sweet, shy boy for a long time.
When he pulls back, his eyes flash with worry.
“What happened? Are you leaving?” he asks. “Do you want me to call Dad? I can get him in here ASAP.”
No!
Panicked, I hold up my hand, forcing a smile.
“No, don’t worry. It’s… it’s an adult thing,” I say, shaking my head. “Your dad and I had a disagreement. We just… we need some time to sort things out.”
“Oh. Oh, shit.” The dramatic way he says it sounds almost comical, especially when he folds his arms and rolls his eyes. “Winnie, what dumbass thing did he pull on you?”
My smile breaks, but I do my best to hold it.
“No, Colt. It’s my fault, actually. That’s the problem. He’s been trying to help me out because he’s a great guy, but I’m here causing a lot of issues, and I can’t keep getting in his hair. So, yeah, I’m going to head out for a bit.”
He cocks his head, studying me like he can tell this is goodbye. I suppose he’s old enough to know the truth.
“Where are you going? Not back to the last guy?”
“God, no! I’m not crawling back to my old life, that’s dead and buried. And I have you and Archer to thank for that.”
Instead of saying more, I pull him into another hug.
He’s such a great kid.
My eyes mist over again and I squeeze them shut, counting to ten until I think I’ve got myself about under control.
“Bye now. Take care of your dad,” I manage, turning my back and hurrying out the door before another look from his sad blue eyes changes my mind.
Well, crap.
Despite loving nature a ton, Mother Nature doesn’t always love me back. She’s kinda demanding and one-sided like that.
I’ve been comfy enough camping in the Ozarks and a few other parks, but it turns out that those places you go where people strike windproof tents and where you always have fluffy beds and full canteens and endless instant foods—that isn’t real camping.
At least, not the sort of camping I’ve gone for this time.
I bought all the equipment secondhand off a guy on Facebook Marketplace before I realized not only am I not the best person to be doing this—aka, a total clueless idiot—but this isn’t remotely easy on your own.