Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
But there were others, the ones that were all high and mighty, that definitely didn’t act very godly toward the people that they thought were less than them.
My father was the perfect example of that kind of person. In public, he was sweet and caring, had a ready smile, and kissed babies.
In the privacy of his own home, though?
That man didn’t exist.
And last night, he’d hit me so hard in the stomach with his fist that I’d decided I wasn’t going to try to get along with him anymore.
I’d done enough lying to myself over the years.
My father wasn’t godly. He didn’t practice what he preached.
He didn’t treat all of God’s creatures with care and compassion.
No, he treated my sister and me like shit.
He put on a show like we were one big, happy family in public. Then in private, he’d berate us, tear us down, beat me—though never where it could be seen—and lie to himself and my mother that it was God’s will.
But…I quickly shut all thoughts of my father down.
Instead, I pulled my hoodie off and smiled at the older lady.
She looked sophisticated, as if she’d just come from church.
Though, it was much too early in the morning to be coming from church.
Maybe she was late for it…
“Oh, not a young man at all.”
“Nope.” I smiled. “My hurry is, it’s cold, and I forgot my bigger jacket.”
She eyed me for a long moment then said, “Get inside the supermarket.”
I didn’t see a point in arguing, since it was colder than a witch’s tit outside, so I went inside and instantly groaned.
I both loved and hated Montana.
On one hand, I wanted to leave this place and never look back.
I mean, a snowstorm in mid-May? Of freakin’ course Montana would do that to me.
But on the other, you didn’t get a view of the mountains covered in snow in Texas or Florida.
She pulled out her phone when we got in the store and placed a call.
“We’ll wait here for my driver to arrive.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and contemplated what I should do here.
I mean, there was no way I could consider going home with her.
She was some random stranger I’d literally just met on the sidewalk.
However, the way that all the grocery store clerks greeted her, I knew that she was likely a decent person. If a rich lady like her was nice to people who made minimum wage, then likely she wasn’t a bad person.
Her car arrived while she was still talking to Karen, the lady who had cancer and was still working because she didn’t have enough money to quit.
“…thank you so much for helping John and I. We couldn’t have made this month’s rent without you.”
The lady smiled. “What’s the point of making all this money if I can’t use it to help people in need?”
She looked over her shoulder, spotted the car, and said, “Karen, call me if you ever need anything else. Promise me.”
Karen did, then the old lady grabbed me by the hand and led me outside.
The man driving got out and had the car door open before we’d gotten to the door, and we both slid inside.
When the door closed behind us, the man said, “Where to, ma’am?”
“Home.”
It took us ten minutes to get there, and when we arrived, my heart was in my throat.
“Holy crap,” I breathed.
“It’s large and ostentatious, isn’t it?” she asked. “I live in the mother-in-law suite around the back of the house. My son and his wife, as well as his two children, live in the main house. It was too much for me when I got older and the kids left. After my husband died, I just couldn’t bear to be there alone any longer.”
“How many rooms does it have?” I wondered. “Seventy?”
“Nineteen.” The old woman rolled her eyes. “Let’s go.”
She caught my hand again and led me out of the door that was once again opened by the man that’d driven, and tugged me along a gorgeously paved path spot free of snow despite the fact that it was still snowing, and straight to her front door.
“Now, what do you want to eat?”
She led me into the small cottage that was cozy and warm, and straight to a blanket that was on the back of the couch.
She wrapped it around my shoulders and stared at me with her warm honey eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
I don’t know why, but everything just poured out.
Everything.
My hate for my dad. My mother doing nothing to protect me. The absolute certainty that my twin could never know what my dad did to me on a regular basis.
Everything, I just laid it all at her feet.
“Blood does not make a family,” she said quietly. “Bonds, do. Promises given and kept. Love. Acceptance. Presence. Showing up when they’re not expected to. That all makes a family. Not some stupid, wannabe notion that blood makes you so.” She looked at something outside the window, and her mouth tipped up but her face went soft. “See that boy out there?”