Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Jory: You know, you always tell me to focus. It’s fun to say it to you.
Sam: I—
Jory: Focus.
Sam: Fine. You know how I feel. I have a very black-and-white view of cheating. I know we’re all human, but that knife cuts both ways, right? A human being, capable of logic, not an animal in heat, can stop themselves and say, “oh shit, I want to sleep with this new guy but I’m married, so I better go home and tell the old guy, the one waiting with my dinner, that screwing someone new is just now at the top of my priority list.”
Jory: You’re so far up on your high horse right now, I can barely see you from here.
Sam: I’m a judgmental asshole. I know this. You know this. You married this. So…deal.
Jory: Charming.
Sam: The bottom line is that the guy who’s asking for your help, he and his friends need to pick the wife, even if she didn’t start out as their friend. She is now. This goes back to loyalty. You give loyalty where it’s deserved.
Jory: It’s just like, if you saw Chris out with a woman you didn’t know, would you tell Dylan?
Sam: First, I would confront Chris. I don’t want to beat the crap out of him if he’s having lunch with a sister I’ve never met.
Jory: You would beat Chris up if he cheated on Dylan?
Sam: I don’t hit people anymore.
Jory: You—
Sam: Mostly.
Jory: Sam—
Sam: I would sure as hell not wait. I would walk up to him and say, what the hell? And he’d introduce me to his sister, because we both know that Chris is another one who thinks his wife hangs the moon.
Jory: Oh, I love that expression.
Sam: Yes, I know.
Jory: Okay, so it’s really all about talking. They need to come to a consensus as a group, but if it comes down to a choice, they need to choose the person who did no wrong.
Sam: Yes.
Jory: Because if you’re the good person, if you’ve been loyal and loving, then if everything else goes to shit, one of the perks should be that you get to keep your friends. Your circle stays intact no matter who had them first.
Sam: Exactly. Well said.
Jory: I’ll keep that in mind should I ever think to stray.
Sam: Hah! Never happen, my friend.
Jory: Oh? You’re so perfect, are you?
Sam: I just said I was an asshole. Were you even listening?
Jory: …
Sam: Stop laughing! And no. Not perfect. Not in the least. But YOU think I hang the moon.
Jory: Yes, I do.
Sam: Please. Stray. To where? To who?
Jory: Actually, it’s not me that we have to worry about in this relationship.
Sam: We don’t have to worry about either of us, but—wait. What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Jory: I’m sure I don’t know, but I’m not the one who thinks Aaron Sutter is hot.
Sam: Oh my God!
Jory: Seriously. Like a seven? Eight? What’s his number? Don’t growl, just tell me.
That’s it, everyone. Have a wonderful rest of September.
OCTOBER 2019
Hello, all, and welcome to He Said, he said, October 2019 edition. I’m Jory Harcourt, and I recently had an epiphany. I realized that my pattern has been questions, then anecdote for a while now, and though it wasn’t intentional, it’s become the norm. When I started out, it was all going to be questions and answers, but sometimes life happens and you have to embrace it. Also, at times, it’s interesting. This, what happened about a week ago, was in fact something that caused lots of family discussion.
“Hello!” Sam called from the kitchen when he came home last Friday night.
Normally, when the kids and I were home, when he walked in the door, we mobbed him.
It came with his job, the chance that he could be shot at in the course of a normal day, so him being home, safe and sound, was something we celebrated. The fact that only the dog was there, barking at him, dancing around his feet like normal, his tiny tail a blur of wagging, was a surprise. But it couldn’t be helped. Kola needed all my attention.
“Hey, Dad,” Hannah trilled back, the happy note in her voice easy to hear even as she didn’t turn to look at him, keeping both eyes on her brother instead. “How was your day?”
“Fine,” he said, walking around the end of the couch, carrying Dobby, our Chihuahua, before he bent and petted the cat, who was waiting patiently to be greeted, standing on the arm of the couch beside Hannah. “What’s going on?”
“Kola’s trying to figure out what he wants to do,” Hannah answered somberly as Sam kissed her forehead before stepping over her legs and taking a seat between us.
He put the dog on my lap and then leaned sideways to kiss me. I met him halfway, inhaling him as I brushed my lips over his.