Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
When I finally pull an inch back, and our breaths mingle, I watch as her eyes drift open. For a moment, there’s only a dreamy look of awe, but then slowly, the grief trickles back.
I brush some hair away from her forehead and whisper, “Eat, mia piccola farfalla. You need your strength.”
She sits back down again, and while we finish our late lunch, my thoughts turn to the fuckers I put the fear of God into earlier today.
I was planning on telling Laurie about what I have planned for Heather, Amanda, and Austin, but that shit will have to wait until after the funeral.
Once we’re done with the meal, I clear the island and load the dirty bowls and plates into the dishwasher.
Shit, I need to let Mom know to move the barbecue to next weekend.
Pulling out my phone, I shoot her a quick text and also a short explanation that Laurie lost a friend and we’ll be going to Belgium.
I watch as Mom reads it, and when she doesn’t reply, I know she’s coming over.
Laurie gets up and walks to the doorway. She sees something that’s out of my line of sight and rushes out of the kitchen.
I hurry after her, and when I walk into the living room, she’s trying to pick up an armful of clothes.
“Leave it.” I walk closer and take the bundle from her.
Worry creeps into her gaze. “But… I can’t just leave everything lying around.”
“Yes, you can. We’ll deal with it later.” I drape the clothes over the backrest of the couch, and before I can say anything else, Mom comes rushing into the room with Tiny right behind her. He always follows Mom like a shadow.
I give him a chin lift, and he responds with an empathetic look.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Mom coos, going straight for my wife. “I’m so sorry for your loss!”
Laurie is hauled into a motherly hug, and a second later she grips Mom as if her life depends on it while fresh sobs burst from her.
“I know…I know, sweetheart,” Mom keeps cooing comforting words while rubbing her hand up and down Laurie’s back. “Cry as hard as you need. I’m here.”
I have never loved my mother more than I do right now. She’s known Laurie all but one day and is treating her like a daughter already.
When Mom’s eyes touch on mine, I mouth, “I love you.”
She smiles at me, then murmurs to Laurie, “I’ve got you, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay.”
I glance over the piles of clothes and feel a glimmer of satisfaction that Laurie at least got enough to last her a little while. I’ll have Pierre come back after we return from Belgium.
Looking back at the two most important women in my life, my eyes land on Laurie’s ring finger.
Diamonds look fucking good on her.
While Mom and Laurie talk in hushed tones, standing huddled together and constantly touching, I make a call to Rosie.
“Damage control speaking. How bad is it?”
“You know?” I ask.
“That all depends on what you’re referring to. Austin is currently in the emergency room getting stitches and his jaw wired shut. The women are hiding at Amanda’s place. None of them have realized their bank accounts are empty. Oh, and no news on that uprising thing. None of the opposing families are saying anything in calls or via texts.”
“Thanks for the update, but that’s not why I’m calling. Laurie’s friend passed away. I need the jet readied for a trip to Belgium and the usual contacts paid off to get Laurie in and out of the country without a passport.”
“Consider it done. Just let me know when the funeral will take place, and please give her my condolences.”
“I will. Thanks, Rosie.”
“Anything for my big brother.”
Rosie is an only child, but from the day she was born, I treated her like my baby sister.
After hanging up, I turn around, but there’s no sign of Laurie and Mom. Walking to the kitchen, I find them by the stove, seeing Mom brewing chamomile tea.
Resting the side of her head on Mom’s shoulder, they look like mother and daughter.
Tiny is sitting by the island, and just as I take a step toward him, someone pats my shoulder. Turning around and seeing Dad, I follow him to the living room.
His hazel eyes search mine before he asks, “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.” I rub the back of my neck and let out a sigh.
Dad stares long and hard at me, and to put him at ease, I give his bicep a squeeze. “I’m really fine. Just worried about Laurie.”
He jerks his head toward the couches, and after we sit down beside each other, he says, “We haven’t had much time to talk.”
“Yeah.”
Like always when we’re about to have a deep conversation, Dad pats my knee. “So this is the woman for you?”