Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Who?”
“Gale Dyer, he messed up and came to the house instead.”
Beats of silence went by.
“Sam?”
“You invited Gale Dyer?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s there?”
“Yes,” I said, turning to look at his friend. “He seems a bit worn out, and I’m wondering if he’s going to make it up there at all.”
“Jory, Gale Dyer can’t stay at the house if I’m not there.”
“Why not?”
“Because he can’t.”
“That’s not a reason.”
“How would you feel if I had one of your friends stay with me and the kids while you were out of town?”
I was so confused. “That would be fine,” I assured him.
“What about Aja or Dylan or Aaron or…shit,” he groaned.
“What is happening right now?”
“Never—I just don’t want him there. Do you understand?”
“Okay, I’ll ask him to leave,” I assured him.
Long silence.
“Did I make a mistake?”
“What?”
“Is he not a close friend?”
“He is. Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
“No, he is.”
“Well, I’m glad, because he’s very nice, Sam. He was a sport, playing video games with the kids last night, and he helped with the candles earlier and––”
“This is candle weekend?”
“It is, yes. We’re just waiting for everything to set now.”
“Jory,” Gale called over to me, having woken up. “I’m going to grab a beer, and then I’ll make a salad and get the corn ready to go on the grill.”
“Sounds great, thank you,” I answered before returning my attention to my husband on the other end of the phone. “Listen, I’ll talk to him right after lunch, I promise.”
“No,” he snapped at me.
“No?”
“No, I mean—it’s fine.”
“What’s fine?”
“You don’t need to ask him to leave.”
“You’re going to give me a headache with the back-and-forth.”
“I’m aware,” he muttered.
“Listen, if your friend being here when you’re not makes you uncomfortable in any way, I don’t want to do that,” I stated, meaning it. “I would never disregard your feelings, and I hope you know that.”
“I do,” he admitted gruffly.
“So be honest and tell me what you want me to do.”
He was quiet.
“Sam?” I prodded.
“He can stay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” he groused at me, but I knew him, and I could hear it in his voice that he was annoyed at himself and none of his irritation had a thing to do with me.
“Did you know he was in Seattle before this? That’s a long drive.” He muttered something I didn’t catch. “Sam?”
“I’ll be home early tomorrow morning.”
“Not too early. Sleeping in is part of the fun, right?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” he agreed. “I love you.”
“And I love you back,” I said with a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you will,” he said gruffly.
“Oh, you romantic, you,” I teased him.
After lunch, since Gale was barely keeping his eyes open, I sent him up to Sam’s and my room to lie down. An hour later, I checked on him, and he was asleep on my side, using the decorative pillows to sleep on. I was glad he was resting.
Hannah and I ran errands, some for her, some for me. We both had to get Thomas Kage gifts for Father’s Day, her because he was her grandfather, me because Sam didn’t shop for himself. She also had to get something for Sam, and she was a bit stumped. We were both walking through the shops on the Miracle Mile, nothing popping out at us, when Kola called and asked Hannah to pick up the fishing pole he’d bought his father at Henry’s Sports & Bait and then to pop over to Best Buy and grab the Oculus Quest 2 that he’d gotten his grandfather.
“Oooh, I hate him,” she growled at me when she got off the phone. “He gets them stuff, and it’s all, ‘oh, Kola, don’t spend your money on us,’ and meanwhile he’s been working part-time for Uncle Dane forever and just puts all his paychecks in the bank.”
I was so not getting in the middle.
“I would put all my paychecks in the bank too, but some of us actually care about how we look when we leave the house!”
Her brother did have a very laid-back style that tended toward jeans or shorts and many, many T-shirts. If I wanted him to not dress like a guy who wanted to talk to you about his start-up, that was where my wallet came in. His three suits, his tuxedo, and his sports jacket had all been purchased by me. That also included his shoes. If I wanted to see something other than a white pair of Converse, I had to shell out for that.
“Do you have any idea what he puts in his hair?” she asked me, sounding horrified.
“You’re not actually mad that he spent money,” I apprised her. “You’re upset because not only did he get good things, but he’s throwing it in your face by having us pick them up.”
She growled again.
“The fishing pole is really good,” I conceded. “I wish I’d thought of it.”