Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 74573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Bud rolled his eyes, as did I.
Castiel looked at me curiously.
“He always gets served first,” I admitted. “Even when we have everybody over, including grandchildren. Papaw eats first, no matter what. And my grandma makes sure of it.”
“As it should be,” Papaw said as he took his first bite of soup. “You keep your man happy, you keep yourself happy.”
“How is that, Papaw?” Bud teased.
“Don’t go where I know you’re going with that politically correct bullshit,” he muttered around a bite of dumplings. “I do the same for her…in different ways. I draw her bath and put her clothes in the dryer while she’s in there so they’ll be warm when she steps out. And I cook her breakfast every single morning and serve it to her in bed.”
Castiel leaned back in his chair, grinning.
“Damn, Papaw,” Bud said. “That’s pretty fuckin’ sweet of you.”
Papaw whacked Bud across the knuckles with his cane.
“Knock that off,” he ordered. “You know how your grandmother hates the cursing.”
Bud, chastised now, looked at Grandma apologetically.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve been in the field for weeks. I just got back yesterday, as a matter of fact. I’m not in control of my manners just yet.”
Papaw grunted, then turned to him and said, “Eat.”
Bud ate, as did we all.
I managed about half the bowl my grandmother served me and sat back, so full I was about to pop.
But I wasn’t good at stopping when it came to my grandmother’s cooking.
And, as I studied Castiel, I realized he was just as taken away by it.
He was practically licking the bowl.
“Here.” I scooted my bowl toward him. “Have that.”
Castiel greedily snatched it up and nearly licked that bowl, too.
“I have more,” my grandmother said with amusement.
Bud and Castiel both nodded their heads and stood, walking into the kitchen with their bowls before my grandmother could offer to get it for them.
When I finally looked back to the table, it was to find my grandfather grinning at my grandmother.
“What?” I asked carefully.
“Your mother would’ve loved him,” my grandma whispered.
***
Four hours later
“That wasn’t so bad, and having your boyfriend—you know, the one you didn’t tell me about—break the ice was definitely helpful,” Bud said.
I looked over at him and raised a brow.
“Technically, I did tell you about him,” I countered. “He’s the one who gave me a ticket and the same one that I had to go to court to talk to the judge. Remember?”
Bud’s mouth fell open. “You’re dating the man that gave you a ticket?”
I blushed. “Yes?”
Bud started laughing and didn’t stop until we got to where my dad had stopped the RV for the night the last night he was with mom.
“I don’t want to do this, either,” Bud grumbled. “Any way you can call that boyfriend of yours over to break the ice here, too?”
I snorted. “He’s working a serial killer case. He barely had time to do what he did today. There’s no way I’m calling him out here to deal with Dad…and I’m honestly not sure what I’ll find when I get in there.”
I wasn’t worried that my dad would try to kill himself, but anything else? Like neglecting himself? Cleaning up? Showering? Possibly wiping well? That I could see him doing.
My dad was like an overgrown nine-year-old. He needed to be told what to do, where to go, when to do it. And when his agent wasn’t providing that information for him, my mom was.
I’m not saying that my father is incapable of doing those things, he’s just a lazy person. Without the constant feedback from others, he’s going to be struggling.
“I started to come here last night but didn’t for the same reason,” Bud admitted. “I’m really concerned that he’s going to be living in a pile of filth.”
I got out of the truck and slammed the door closed, heading for the RV that looked rather dark and gloomy thanks to the trees that the RV was parked under and the rapidly descending sun sinking in the sky.
“You go first,” he muttered.
I rolled my eyes at my brother and headed for the front steps, walking up one before I reached up and knocked.
Dad answered the door instantly.
Two things hit me at once.
One, he was dressed—rather nicely—in a clean pair of jeans and t-shirt.
Two, he looked like he was waiting for us to come.
I felt a little bad.
I should’ve probably made more of an effort to come see him, but dammit, I wasn’t sure that I could handle being around him just yet.
I wanted to be strong, but I also wanted to grieve myself.
“Hey, Dad,” I said as I continued up the steps.
“Hey, baby,” my father said. “You brought your brother. Does that mean that we have the funeral tomorrow?”
I nodded. “Yes. I’ve already called Jubilee. She’s setting it up for early in the morning.” I paused. “You have a speaking engagement that you’ve had booked for two years…you wanted to go to that, right?”