Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77611 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77611 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“I know that.”
“I’m not sure you do. I’m not sure any of you do. These last two months have been wonderful. Like all those secret sleepovers we had at Val’s house when we were kids who didn’t have anywhere else to go. But it got me thinking about things.”
Here we go. “Are you thinking you have too many male friends and you’re outnumbered again?”
“No. I’m thinking that nothing has changed in years. I could almost say decades at this point. You and Connor still live together. I’m still living and working with my uncle. Val is still taking us in but not letting us… What I’m saying is that none of us have other people in our lives. Not really. Not people we’d be willing to invite over for dinners and game nights.”
“Who would we invite?” Those are our dinners. Our game nights. “I think you’ve been holed up in that house for too long and you’re bored. Don’t break up with us because you’re bored,” I tease, mostly to hide the knots of panic currently forming in my stomach.
“Shut up. I love you and that’s the one thing I promise will never change. Whenever you hold out your hand—”
“I’ll be there to grab it,” I finish the old phrase automatically.
“Exactly. You three are always going to be my guys. But I want more for all of us. I want us to take more chances. I want you to be willing to take a chance. With your work. With a person.”
“First of all, I already took this sabbatical. That’s very new and chance-y for me. But you know why I don’t date. At this point, I wouldn’t even know how.”
I might be willing to learn for Michael.
Pretend you didn’t see that.
“Believe me, I understand. The last time I tried to date, it was for a job and I ended up in the hospital.” She laughs but I don’t.
“Too soon, Bex.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But even though I got hurt, I’m still glad I left the safe monotony of my night shift and tried something new.”
I bite my lip, hesitating before asking, “Have you responded to any of her calls yet?”
“No. Kate just wants to make herself feel better. I told you about the conversation we had right before those assholes showed up. She was clear about her feelings then. Or lack thereof. Changing her mind once I was injured isn’t allowed.”
“But you’re still telling me to take a chance.”
“I’m not guaranteeing that everything will work out if you do.”
“Like the spying mission you sent me on,” I joke. “That didn’t work out the way I thought it would at all.”
“I’m just saying it might be good for us to try new things at this point in our lives. Get a few new hobbies. Kiss a few frogs.”
“Yes, that worked so well for my mother.”
My mother was the frog-kissing champion, though the last time I saw her, she still hadn’t found her prince. She was a serial monogamist, married three times and shacked up five before I was fifteen. They never lasted and she always blamed me. Because I was gay and God was punishing her for it. Because I had devil eyes. Because I was “too pretty” and one or two of her loser boyfriends tried to put the moves on me, and I had to make a big deal about it. When our landlord told me she’d left town with the last one and that my things were in a garbage bag by his desk, all I felt was pity for the woman who’d only read one book in her life and never seemed to get to the parts about unconditional love, kindness and not throwing stones.
But she left a few lessons behind with my clothes. One of them was to never rely on a man for my happiness. That one took.
“Lucky for us, we’re not our parents,” Bex says gently. “You’re one of the best men I know, in spite of her, Win. You stick with your friends in good times and bad. You care about every crop of kids that enters your classroom or comes to our summer camp. You change lives for the better every day. Why shouldn’t you want the same thing for yourself?”
The dogs are playing at my feet and I drop to the floor to pet them. Congratulations Mims and Mad, you’re my new therapy dogs. “I think I might be too damaged to be in a relationship. I’m just not wired for it. Connor is. Val is. Maybe I’m supposed to be the hot-and-happy single uncle that buys their kids beer while sneakily teaching them about the Bill of Rights. A walking, talking, much cooler version of Schoolhouse Rock.”
“You wouldn’t have taken this sabbatical if you were truly happy. And don’t tell me it was only because of that vice principal whose demise I’m still planning as we speak.”