Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“Go Red Devils,” Dad interjects.
“And I was the head cheerleader for mine. Go Spartans.” She giggles. “It was quite the scandal, actually.”
“Barb was forbidden fruit,” Dad says with a wink at Mom. “Irresistible.”
Caleb glances at me. “Forbidden is the best kind of fruit, if you ask me.”
I look away, blushing. I’m sure it was a coincidence Caleb looked directly at me when he said that, but my body reacted like he’d just used a Taser on me, just the same.
“After thirty years together,” Mom says, “I think everyone in Prairie Springs has finally forgiven my traitorous betrayal. The people in Joe’s town? Not so much.”
Dad laughs. “They’ve more than forgiven you, Barb, or else they wouldn’t have put you in charge of the summer festival for the past ten years.”
Caleb asks what that means, and Dad proudly launches into explaining that for the past decade, my mother has been in charge of the elite committee that meticulously plans our town’s biggest, annual fundraiser/community event: our beloved summer festival.
“That’s impressive, Mrs. Capshaw,” Caleb says.
Mom bats at the air. “It’s really not. I’m the only one willing to do it, basically. And, please, call me Barbara or Barb.”
“And call me Joe,” Dad chimes in.
Caleb asks the timing of this year’s festival, and Mom tells him the date: a Saturday that’s about two months away in mid-August.
“Every year,” Mom says, “the festival raises money for the school and some other local causes. And do you know what the committee did behind my back this year? They added Joe to the list of recipients because of his broken leg! I told them, no, no, we’ll manage. But wasn’t it sweet of them to want to do that for us?”
I shift in my seat, feeling annoyed with Mom for rejecting the committee’s generous offer to help us out this year. Dad’s surgery was expensive, even with insurance; and Dad’s going to be out of work for at least four months. Probably longer. And now, we might have to scrape together money for a lawyer, too? As hard as it might be for my proud parents to accept, we really could have used that donation, however small it might have been.
Caleb’s forehead creases. “If you need money, I’ve got a lot of it.”
“No, no,” Mom says quickly, blushing a deep crimson. “Joe will be back to work in no time, and I’ve got my job to pay the bills in the meantime.”
It’s total bullshit. Mom’s job will cover only a fraction of our living expenses, and she knows it. And it won’t make a dent in Dad’s medical expenses.
I address Caleb, eager to change the subject. “We’d love a donation from you for this year’s live auction. It’s always the biggest moneymaker of the entire festival.”
“Oh. Yeah, sure, I can do that. You mean, like, signed band memorabilia and merch?”
“Exactly. That’d bring in a pretty penny, I’m sure.”
Caleb looks at Mom. “When do you need it by?”
“A week or so before the festival would be great. That’ll give me enough time to post the list and finalize the auction programs.”
“Plenty of time,” Caleb murmurs with relief. “I’ll figure something out and let you know.”
“Thank you so much. That’s very generous of you.”
“I’ll come up with something good.”
Caleb smiles at me, like he’s expecting a pat on the back; but I give him nothing. For all I know, this man will be back in LA in two months with Raine, after winning custody of her at the hearing in a month, and the promise he just now made to donate to the auction will be a distant memory.
Caleb shifts his attention to my father—the friendliest face at the table. “So, Joe, how’d you break your leg?”
Dad motions to his propped-up leg in a cast and frowns. “Oh, man, C-Bomb, it was a pisser.” And away he goes, launching into the same story I’ve heard on repeat, since the accident last week. If I were telling this story, I’d simply say, “Dad fell off a roof while fixing it with a newbie who made a big mistake and accidentally knocked Dad to the ground.” But Dad being Dad, he spins a yarn like he was the main character in a two-hour action flick that day.
“Oof,” Caleb says with a wince, once Dad gets to the part of his story where he’s writhing in pain on the ground.
“Oof is right,” Dad says with a chuckle. “Thirty years working construction, twenty of it as the owner of my own company, and it was my first broken bone.”
“Too bad you’re out of commission for a while,” Caleb says. “I just inherited an old cabin on Lake Lucille, and I’m predicting it’s going to need some major upgrades and repairs.”
“Give me six months, and I’ll fix anything the place needs.”
“I’m not sure if I can wait that long.”