Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Right?” Kola agreed, smiling at her.
Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms. “Oh, so are we done being a jerk?”
“Hannah,” Jake scolded her, and if looks could kill, the one she shot him should have ended him right there.
“Speak,” she ordered her brother. “You’ve been a total douche this whole week.”
He grimaced and then pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. After opening it and sliding around some screens, he passed it to her.
“Really? For a B?”
He let his head fall back on his shoulders.
“What happened?” I asked.
She turned the phone to me. “Someone around here got a B on his Social Economics paper and he’s mourning it like his lost youth.”
“His youth is lost?” Jake sounded concerned.
I cleared my throat. “You do realize a B is a perfectly respectable grade.”
“What is Social Economics?” Sam wanted to know.
My spaghetti sauce, which everyone agreed that the rosemary-and-anise sausage was not good in, was a hit with the regular spicy sausage. At dinner we talked about the undue pressure that all the kids were putting on themselves.
“So you shouldn’t always try and do your best?” Kola asked me.
“Did you try your best on the paper?”
“I always do,” he assured me.
“That’s all I can ask for.”
He looked at Sam.
“C’mon, kid,” he said, chuckling. “I know you always try your best. It’s how you’re made. Don’t ever think I’m anything but proud as hell of you.”
Kola nodded, clearly choked up, and looked away as Sam reached out, took hold of his shoulder, squeezed gently, and then went back to eating.
“Is there any more bread?” Jake wanted to know.
“Eat more salad,” I directed him.
The pained expression made me smile.
Wednesday night we were invited to the home of a friend of Sam’s. He and Preston Garvin had gone to high school together and had been tight until graduation, when Preston headed off to college and Sam to the Marine Corps. They had touched base over the years, but with Preston in Boston and Sam in Chicago, it was hard to maintain closeness. Sam was definitely the kind of person who needed the people in his life in close proximity. He wasn’t much of a text guy, he had no idea how any social media platforms worked, and if his emails, other than work, had more than a sentence in them, that was impressive. He also didn’t enjoy talking on the phone for more than five minutes at a time. In person, face-to-face, was the best for him. When his children moved out and away, that would change. It would have to. But I was betting that he was still going to need to see their faces. I could see lots of video chatting in our future.
Preston, his wife, Margaret, their sons, Davis and Seth, and daughter, Katherine, all lived in Wilmette, which was a very nice place. There were tree-lined streets and fancy green lantern light posts everywhere, and of course the homes were simply stunning.
“Wow,” I said from the passenger seat beside my husband.
“Wow what?” Hannah asked from where she was on FaceTime with me. She’d called right after we left because she was waiting for George to pick her up. She was going to some fundraiser that Aaron had her hosting. Normally she didn’t attend events during the middle of the week, only on Friday or Saturday night, but she was off that Thursday, so it worked out.
I turned the phone around so she could see everything we passed. “Are you seeing all the gorgeous homes?”
She grunted.
“Not impressed?” I asked, turning the camera back to me.
“Remember when Uncle Aaron had a home there and we had to schlep out for parties when we were little?”
“Yes.”
“That house was impressive,” she assured me. “But you and Dad hated it because it was too far away from the city.”
“I don’t recall that,” I said pointedly.
Sam scoffed. “I do. Driving out here every day would be a giant pain in the ass, and that’s without traffic.”
“Heathen,” I replied, scowling at him. “Nothing wrong with having a beautiful house.”
“I’m not saying there is,” Hannah chimed in, “but would you trade your house for any of these marvels?”
I would not. No. But what I said was, “Don’t be a snob. These homes are gorgeous.”
“Yeah, but it’s not your cuppa,” she teased me. “Can you imagine what the HOAs are like there? And we have trouble keeping our grass cut. I’m sure we’d get a fine. Our lawn guy is just the worst.”
“Hey,” Kola said defensively from where he was sitting beside her on the couch. He and Jake were waiting for Harper before they ordered pizza. “Our lawn guy had biology labs this week. Give him a break.”
She was cackling when I heard him gasp.
“What? What happened?” I asked worriedly. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he breathed out. “But I have to tell you, my sister is a glorious creature.”