Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
I can’t.
“Everleigh. Come here, baby girl,” she calls.
It’s such a natural thing, a mother calling her kid in for supper. It seems like just a normal part of ordinary life. But I know the truth.
Appearances can be deceiving, but I enjoy the moment of deception.
I’ll take what I can get.
A few seconds later, the sound of little feet comes running into the kitchen. “Uncle Crew!”
I kneel on one knee as she runs to me, her black hair flowing behind her.
“Uncle Crew,” she yells again and falls wildly in my arms, nuzzling her face into my cold jacket. I grab the zipper and yank it down, afraid the frozen metal will sting her little face.
My lips find her forehead as she wraps her arms around me. I hold her close, brushing back her hair, breathing in the smell of bubble gum that I’ve come to associate with my adorable niece. “How are ya, monkey?”
“I’m good.” She giggles, pulling back and looking at me expectantly. “Did you bring me something?”
“Everleigh Nicole,” Julia says. “Have some manners.”
“But it’s Uncle Crew.” She bats her eyelashes at her mother, who rolls her eyes in response. “You did bring me something, didn’t ya?” She looks at me again, a grin splitting her cheeks.
I could never say no to this kid. She could ask me for the fuckin’ moon and I’d figure out a way to get it.
“Come on. You know I brought ya something.”
Everleigh giggles and bounces up and down, her arms folded across the front of her Tinkerbell shirt. I reach in the bag and fish through the groceries, pulling out a coloring book and a box of crayons. I really have no idea what the pictures are about, but it’s the only one they had at the store.
“Yay!” she squeals, holding them up in the air so Julia can see them. “Thank you. I’ll color you something beautiful and you can hang it at your house.”
“You’re welcome.” I hold her gaze and give her a nod to let her know our routine was still on. She tries to wink at me, but both eyes just flutter a few times. It takes everything I have not to laugh.
As soon as Julia turns her back, I slip her a banana Laffy Taffy, and she kisses my cheek. She does her best sneaky walk back into the living room to avoid being caught with candy before supper.
I watch her go. Her long dark hair, just like her mother’s, almost touches her waist. She’s so much like Julia. She has the same heart-shaped face with high cheekbones and the same graceful way about her.
Even so, there is so much about Everleigh that is like my brother. She’s tall, like Gage, towering over most of her five-year-old friends. Her eyes are the same color, like the sky over the harbor on a really clear day. But the thing about my niece that reminds me most of my brother is her soul. Just like Gage, Ever is wise beyond her years. She’s ridiculously smart and more mature than I probably was until I was in my twenties.
My brother loved her so damn much.
I release a sigh and lean against the battered refrigerator and feel it settle against my weight.
Julia ignores me, working at the stove. She’s tied her hair back and I can see the stress in her shoulders, her posture defiant. She used to look that way in high school when she’d come to the house after a fight with her asshole parents. I hate seeing it now as much as I hated seeing it then. The only difference is now I have no one to blame but myself.
“You okay?” I ask, wondering if she will even respond to me.
Sometimes she does. Sometimes she doesn’t.
It’s been a long two years since our worlds fell apart, but we’ve come to some sort of unspoken understanding. I’ve accepted that she’s gonna hate me for the rest of her life. She’s accepted that I won’t go away. We’ve made some progress over time. She doesn’t threaten me with a restraining order anymore. I don’t get pissed at her refusal to cooperate. I just do what I’m going to do, and she huffs but accepts it. Progress.
“Jules?” I ask again, watching her warily. I normally don’t press, just drop off what I have and dash. Today, though, she seems more beaten down. I know she’s probably missing him this week even more than usual, because I am, too. That makes me want to go get a drink, but I can’t leave her without making sure she’s all right. I owe her that much. “You okay?”
I see her set the spoon down and bow her head, and I brace myself for the unknown.
“Peachy.”
Her voice is so low that I can almost not even hear her. She grasps the counter on either side of the stove and doesn’t move.