Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
They would’ve kept at it all afternoon if I hadn’t stepped between them and said, “Alright, you two. Enough of the bullshit. We’ve got work to do.”
And just like that, they both shook it off and got back to work.
My father was always the one who kept the guys on track, and it never took much. Just a quick look or commanding statement and the goofing came to a halt. It felt odd having them react similarly to me, but at the same time, it felt good.
Damn good.
I glanced over at my father and found him staring back at me with a proud smile on his face. He gave me a quick nod, then went back to his conversation with Guardrail. We still had a lot to do to get the plumbing and electrical ready for the shotcrete, so I did a recheck of the layout and got busy prepping the plumbing for the deck jets.
One task led to the next, and before I knew it, the guys were starting to disperse. I finished up what I was doing and started gathering up my things. I was preparing to head out when Dad came up to me and said, “Your mother wants to know if you picked up your suit.”
“I haven’t gotten around to it.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’m not going.” Dad gave me one of his looks, and I knew I was about to get blowback. “I’ve got a lot of shit going on. I don’t have time nor the desire to go to some stupid wedding.”
“It’s important to your mother.”
“I know.” My throat tightened as I told him, “But Londyn will be there.”
“And what if she is.”
“I haven’t seen her in almost five years. I didn’t see her when she came asking for me at the clubhouse. I didn’t see her when she came home to see her folks. I didn’t read her fucking letters or answer her calls. It damn near killed me, and now, because of some fucking wedding, I’m supposed to just forget about all that and pretend like it never happened.”
“Maybe it’s time.”
“I can’t, Dad. It would be too hard.” I grabbed my cooler and started towards the parking lot. “I would think you, above anyone else, would get that.”
I hoped that would be the end of our conversation, but no such luck. Dad stormed up behind me and asked, “Tell me this... Why’d you do it? Why’d you turn her away?”
“I did it for her.” I stopped and faced him as I added, “I wanted her to have a chance to have the life she deserved, and she couldn’t have that with me.”
“And you know, without a doubt, that she felt the same way.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then, maybe it’s time you found out.” He put his hand on my shoulder as he told me, “I get why you did what you did, son. It was an admirable thing, but you’ve given her time to do her thing. So, if she still means something to you, it’s time you did something about it.”
“And what if she’s moved on?”
“Then, you’ll have to find a way to accept it, but there’s always the chance that she hasn’t.”
He gave me a fatherly pop on the bicep, then turned and got in his truck. I was still mulling over what he’d said when he pulled out of the drive. I was pulled from my thoughts when Rooster came up behind me and announced, “Torch and I are heading over to Danvers for dinner and a cold one. You wanna come with?”
“Gonna have to pass tonight, brother. I’ve got some things I need to tend to.”
“Need a hand?”
“Nah, I’ve got it.”
“You know where we’ll be if you change your mind.”
I nodded, then walked over to my pickup. Seconds later, I was on the road driving towards town. I still had my hesitations about going to the wedding, but if I did decide to go, I would need my suit. So, I drove over to Hagley’s and parked right at the front door of the store, then got out and rushed up to the front door.
I was about to dart inside when I felt a small body slam into mine.
I looked down and found a pair of crystal blue eyes staring up at me. The kid was four or five with whitish-blond hair that reminded me of the pictures I’d seen of my dad when he was a kid. He was holding an ice cream cone that was now smeared into my jeans. "Whoa! Easy there, kid!”
The boy's lopsided grin faltered as he looked at the mess he had made. “Oh, I’m swo-ry.”
“It’s all good.” I’d never laid eyes on him before, but there was something familiar about him—like I should’ve known him. But I didn’t. I had no idea who he was. “You got a name, kid?”