Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“I didn’t mind the pictures,” said Moretti.
I laughed. “Of course you didn’t.”
“Cheyenne says you’re bringing Maddie Blake with you,” Cole said to me. “That’s cool.”
Just hearing her name made heat rise in me. I nodded and tipped up my beer.
“Oh yeah, I heard she was staying with you.” Griffin glanced sideways at me from my right. “How’s that going?”
“Good.” I tried to sound casual. “She just came to town to sell her mom’s house. Actually, Moretti’s going to buy it.”
“Oh yeah?” Cole looked at Moretti.
He shrugged. “It needs some work, but I think it’s a good buy for the location. It’ll make a good rental property.”
“She’s really relieved that you offered,” I told him. “This makes things a lot easier on her.”
“She’s got a son, right?” Cole asked.
I nodded. “Elliott. He’s six. Such a great kid.”
“I bet he loves being on the ranch.” Cole tipped up his beer. “Mariah is always asking to come back and ride a horse again.”
“Anytime,” I told him. “She’s always welcome.”
“So is there anything going on between you and Maddie?” Griffin asked.
“Not really.” I pretended to get interested in the game that was on the TV above the bar.
Cole laughed. “Is that a yes or a no?”
“I think it’s a ‘Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it.’” Griffin tipped his chair back on two legs. “Am I right?”
I shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
He balled up a soggy cocktail napkin and threw it at me.
“Fuck off.” Laughing, I threw it back. “Look, we’re having fun together. That’s all I can say.”
“Fun is good. How long is she in town?” Cole asked.
“She has to go back next weekend. Right after the wedding.” I ignored the pang in my gut as I said it.
“What about after that?”
“We haven’t really talked about it.”
Moretti spoke up. “From what she’s said to Bianca, she’s pretty into you.”
Across the table, I did my best impression of the Moretti smolder. “I mean, who wouldn’t be?”
He laughed. “Dickhead.”
“Didn’t you put her photo in our time capsule?” Cole asked.
“Oh yeah,” Griffin said slowly. “I forgot about that.”
“I don’t remember,” I lied. “I might have.”
“I remember,” Moretti said. “You did. That’s how fucking long you’ve been into her. So all I’m saying is, now that you guys finally managed to hook up and it’s a good thing, why throw it away?”
“I’m not throwing anything away,” I said irritably. “But I’m not really into the idea of a long-distance relationship. I can’t see how it would work. End of discussion.”
But on the drive home, I thought about what Moretti said. It’s not like he was entirely wrong. I had been into Maddie forever, and it was a good thing between us. But I wasn’t throwing it away—I was being realistic. I was being honest.
My friends couldn’t understand. Their choices were different than mine because their options were different. None of them had to run a business and take care of an aging parent on their own. Sure, Cole had Mariah, but she was getting more independent every day, as opposed to my father, who was growing less independent.
Maybe someday circumstances would be different, but you couldn’t make a promise to someone about someday. No one wanted to hear that. It wasn’t fair. Especially to someone like Maddie, who gave so much of herself trying to please other people.
But as I pulled into my driveway, knowing she was inside the house had me excited to walk through the door.
Coming home to her just felt good.
“Hey. Did you have fun?” Maddie looked over at me from where she sat with my father on one couch, an old photo album on her lap. Elliott was playing with DiMaggio on the floor by the windows.
“It was okay. I’m tired.” I rolled my shoulders again. “And I think I did something to my neck today.”
“Want me to try to work out the knots?”
“Nah. I’ll just take some ibuprofen before I go to bed.”
“Come here.” She stood up and held the album out to me. “You sit and turn the pages, and I’ll rub your neck and shoulders while we look at the pictures.”
I did as she asked, taking her place next to my dad and opening the album on my lap. It was probably the oldest one we had, the first few pages full of grainy old black and white shots with white borders from even before my dad’s time.
“There’s the old house,” my father said as I studied a photo of my grandparents standing in front of the old farmhouse. “I don’t exactly know what happened to it. But that’s where I grew up.”
It struck me how much my dad resembled his dad in his old age, and I knew that I was probably looking at my own future too. Would someone sit down and look at photos of me someday and wonder who I was and what my life was like?