Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Thanks, Mom,” Jess says, humoring her.
She laughs and disappears through the entryway.
“You’ll have to pardon my mama,” he says, leading me toward the sidewalk to his porch. “I gave her a heads-up that you were coming, and she’s … let’s say she’s reading into things a little too much.”
He pushes the door open and lets me walk in first.
The two-story foyer is airy and bright with a staircase on the right side next to the wall. An oversized chandelier hangs from the ceiling, and I bet it’s beautiful at night when the light reflects off all the windows.
A small living area with a fireplace and black leather furniture completes the space, and the openings on either side of the rock chimney open in what appears to be a kitchen.
“I’m still working on it,” he says, sliding his hands into his pockets. “But she’s coming along.”
“This is beautiful. How much of this did you do yourself?”
“About all of it.” He walks toward the back part of the house. I follow. “Mom and Dad bought these houses—and the lot between Foxx and Banks, which was supposed to be for Paige—for us. But the catch was that they needed remodeling and updating. They needed a lot of work. As each of us moved out of Mom’s and into our own house, we all kind of pitched in and helped get it cleaned up and livable.”
“I love how you guys help one another.”
He stops next to a white stone-topped island. “That’s what family is for, right?”
“Yes, I must run. We’ll chat later.” Mom’s words echo through my head. “I don’t know personally, but I think that’s probably what nature intended.”
His brows pull together as he moves through the kitchen. “What is your family up to these days? Where’s Greg? I haven’t seen him since we graduated from high school.”
“My parents are out saving the world one life at a time. Greg is, too, I guess. He got married a few years ago and has a baby. Their kid will look at pictures someday and ask, ‘Who is that lady and why is she in your baby pictures, Dad?’”
Jess offers me a drink. I turn it down.
“So you don’t see him?” he asks.
“I haven’t seen him since his wedding. He’s in Atlanta now, working some medical wizardry with spleens or something. I don’t know. It is what it is.”
He leans across the counter from me, his hands folded in front of him. His forehead is wrinkled as he takes me in.
I generally hate talking about my family because people don’t understand. While I don’t care what people think, it gets awkward trying to explain our familial interactions—or lack thereof. I always find myself in defense mode, shrugging off pity.
There are no vibes like that here. Just a genuine curiosity and concern that’s relieving.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. You’re just so … nonchalant about it.”
“About what?”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my marbles. “You haven’t seen your only brother in years.”
I shrug and sit on one of the stools.
“Do you see your parents?” he asks.
“Oh, I just talked to my mom on the way over here. She was so excited to tell me that she found me a new job.”
Jess flinches. “A new job?”
“Don’t worry. We’re still going on our trip. Because, despite what my mother thinks, I love my job and think it’s more than a glorified hobby and have zero intentions of quitting.”
“Your mom thinks your job is a hobby?”
“We all aren’t from families like yours, pal,” I say, winking at him. “In our family, once you’re eighteen, you either follow the path laid out for you or figure out things independently. I didn’t choose their way, so I could become the richest woman on the planet, and it wouldn’t be good enough.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“There’s nothing to say, Jess. It’s life. It’s just my life. And, honestly, I chose this. I knew what would happen if I bailed on being a doctor. It was never a secret.” I sigh. “Did I hope that my mom and dad would have a change of heart? Sure. Did it sting for a while? Of course. But I’m almost thirty. Their presence in my life would come with a venom that there’s no antidote for, so I accept it for what it is and am grateful that I’m in such a good place.”
Because that wasn’t always the case.
He moves around the counter and holds out a hand. I don’t hesitate to lay my palm in his. His skin is warm, his fist solid as he wraps his fingers around mine. Gently, he helps me off the stool.
“I’m happy to let you know that I’m sure my mother will be thrilled to be your stand-in fake ex-mother-in-law for the next week,” he says, grinning. “So prepare yourself for that.”