Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 105231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Were the other kids mean to you?”
“Oh no, they weren’t. Which is surprising when I barely spoke to anyone. Some kids can be cruel, but some can also be amazingly open and welcoming about people’s . . . eccentricities, let’s say. It wasn’t because of that. It was because . . . I never had any lunch.”
Shit.
This stuff shouldn’t be so hard to admit. It wasn’t her fault that she’d gone to school almost every day without food. She knew that. Her therapist had helped her separate feelings of guilt from what had been their fault.
Not hers.
But it didn’t make her feel less ashamed, unfortunately.
“What? Why?” he asked.
“Usually because the cupboards were empty and there was nothing to take. My father spent most of his time in his office or the lab in the city. So he ate there or kept snacks in his office. My mother spent most of her time in the city, only coming home on the weekends. But she only really ate at night and they’d eat out. Sometimes, she’d bring home groceries, especially if my father was out of his protein bars and snacks.”
“They didn’t fucking feed you?” he yelled without really mean to.
She jumped but nodded.
He stood and moved so he could pace up and down the living room floor. “What did you do?”
“Well, Lacey noticed I didn’t have anything so she started to bring extra for me for lunch. And the school always had snacks to give kids who had nothing. They once rang my mother because I was always in the office, asking for food. God, she was so mad that she shook me. She shoved me and I hit the wall.”
“She fucking what?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “She went through a stage where she’d hurt me to see if that made me better, smarter, if it made me want to do better. But that experiment failed so she stopped.”
Mostly.
The piano lessons continued for quite a while.
“Fucking hell. How did I never see physical abuse on you?”
“Oh, she rarely left bruises.”
Well, except for her knuckles. But she’d made excuses for them or worn gloves when she could.
“After that, there was food for a while. But I knew better than to ask the school for food again. So I started hoarding it. I’d sneak into my father’s office and take things. Or when Lacey gave me food, I’d just eat half and save the rest for the weekends. I . . . this is terrible, I don’t want to tell you this part.”
He froze, then he turned to her. “Hey, look at me.”
She kept her gaze on her feet, shaking her head. Bad idea since her head immediately started throbbing. Ouch.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Just a sore head.”
“Have you taken some painkillers? Have you been seen by a doctor?”
“Yes and no. I think I need some more. I just need my handbag.”
Where had that gone?
He picked it up off the floor where she must have dropped it and handed it to her.
“I’ll get you some water.” He walked into the kitchenette. She’d rented a one-bedroom apartment. It was small, but she didn’t need much. Rentals in this area were expensive and it seemed a waste of money to get something with more floor space just for her.
He handed her the glass of water, sitting back on the coffee table as she swallowed the pills. He checked his watch.
“Is there somewhere you need to be?” she asked.
She wasn’t sure if she was eager to get rid of him or disappointed that he had to go.
“No, just taking note of what time you had those.”
Umm.
“Why?” she asked.
“So I know when you’ll need some more. You don’t want to overdose on painkillers.”
Did he think he was still going to be here when she had to take more? Before she could answer, he was talking again.
“I want you to listen to me,” he said. “What happened to you as a child was terrible. Your parents were neglectful and abusive. But none of it is your fault. Understand? You have nothing to feel ashamed of.”
“I know. But I can’t help but feel that way.”
“Whatever you had to do to survive, was something you had to do. Okay? I’m definitely not going to judge you.”
She swallowed heavily, nodding. “I, well, it’s terrible but sometimes I stole food.”
“Don’t blame you at all,” he said immediately. “And I’m sure that whoever you stole it from wouldn’t care.”
She glanced away. “What if I stole it from Lacey’s house?”
“Baby, you think Lacey would care? She was giving you food at school. She’s one of the most generous people I know. She was probably leaving food out deliberately for you.”
Surprise filled her and she did remember several times where food had been on the counter, making it easier for her to stuff it into her pockets. “You think so?”