Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
I was suddenly weary. She did that. She made me feel tired to my marrow. She obviously saw that I had no intention of answering her questions and so she thrust the folder at me. “Here. Along with the bylaws regarding town ownership and legal paraphernalia I just discovered, there are all kinds of things in here that belonged to your father . . . certificates, awards he won. As far as the legal documents, they’re all original. Just look it all over. When you see what I’ve highlighted, I think you’ll understand the line of my thought. See if you agree.”
All kinds of things in here that belonged to your father.
I took the photo albums and the file folder of my father’s papers when she held them out to me, unable to resist that which my father had once touched. Something, anything, that I might have a right to even as second best. His handwriting . . . I couldn’t even remember what his handwriting looked like. A scrawled note. A photograph I’d never seen. Something. I held it tightly to me as though a part of him might live inside these dusty pages. “Goodbye, Mom,” I said, walking out and closing the door behind me. And for God’s sake, drop this, I wanted to say, but I had a well-earned feeling that it wouldn’t make a difference what I said. Tori Hale still felt wronged. It wasn’t about me at all. It never had been.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Travis
The air was still and muggy, not a whisper of breeze off the lake. I rolled the cold beer bottle across my forehead, sighing at the momentary relief. The porch swing creaked under my weight as I used one foot to move it idly, taking a sip of the cheap beer, the only kind Betty offered. It was still welcomed, as was the peace of this front porch, away from the hooch-drunk revelers joined together for social hour. It sounded like they were involved in a rowdy game of charades, although that couldn’t be right, because they’d never leave Burt out and blind men wouldn’t be a team asset when it came to charades. Whatever it was, there were lots of distant hoots and hollers.
I used my toe to give myself another small push. A fish jumped in the water beyond, its small splash leaving ripples on the deep blue surface of the water.
“Lonely, mister?”
My lips tipped and I turned my head slightly. I didn’t need to see her to know who it was. She pushed the screen door open, stepping forward into the dim light of the covered porch. She leaned a hip on one of the columns near the steps and turned my way. “And you look like you’re thinking very hard about something,” she noted.
I gave a half-hearted smile. “I went to see my mother today. She inspires reflection.” I held up my beer. “And alcohol.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, studying me. After a moment, she looked away, seeming to be wrestling with something. “I . . . uh”—she picked at a splinter on the wooden railing—“I looked up the town today . . . read more about the Hale family history.” She paused, finally meeting my gaze. “I hope you don’t consider it a breach of privacy.”
I looked back out to the lake. “No. It’s all public knowledge.”
“I overheard a couple of girls mentioning your family at the club today and it . . . it . . . well, I should have asked you . . . I just . . . I wasn’t sure, you know, if you would want to talk about your family with—”
“My friend?”
She let out a breathy laugh. “Yes.” Her fingers found that splinter again. “Yes, your . . . temporary friend. Well, or anyone.” Temporary friend, repeated in my head. With benefits, went unsaid. Then again, I wasn’t sure if she’d allow anything physical to happen between us again. At the thought of never kissing her, never touching her body, something opened inside me. Something empty and hollow.
She’d overheard a couple of girls gossiping about the Hales at the club today. It was very possible the conversation was less than positive. My family garnered mixed reviews when it came to the citizens of Calliope. But whatever she’d heard hadn’t caused her to judge me harshly. Because she was kind.
I watched her for a minute. By the way she was fidgeting, I could tell she felt awkward and off balance. We were straddling so many lines, and I had the sense that Haven needed to keep me firmly placed in the box she’d designated. I also had the sense that there were deeper reasons for that than just because she was only passing through town and didn’t want to make connections that would be difficult to sever when she left.