Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
That was truly bad news. But there was no use taking it out on Mrs. Horace. It wasn’t her fault. It was no one’s fault. It was just part of the ebb and flow of life. I would find another place to live and life would move on.
I reassured Mrs. Horace but as soon as I disconnected the call, my brave face fell.
“What happened?” he asked.
I told him about Mrs. Horace and the house.
“We’ll figure out something,” he said. “Everything usually has a solution, as long as we don’t panic.”
I laughed nervously. He’d read me correctly. I’d started panicking and imagining the worst.
Alex
We picked up Kayden from Lulu’s place and drove back home. It hadn’t taken a lot of thought to decide that it would soon be home. At least for Charlotte and Kayden. If they would have me, it would be my home too. A plan was slowly forming in my mind.
There was nothing in New York for me. As I’d told Charlotte once, home was where your heart was. And my heart was firmly with my wife and Kayden. I was beginning to believe that we could make a go of it and this time we would succeed. We had gone through so much but through it all my love for Charlotte had not gone away one bit.
If anything I loved her more than I ever had.
When we got home, I excused myself saying I needed to get some stuff from town. I settled my family and then drove to town, to the B&B. I assumed that was where Mrs. Horace’s son was staying.
I was right. The B&B wasn’t strict about giving information concerning their guests. The crime rate was practically non-existent and I had ceased being a stranger, especially when word got out that I was staying with Charlotte.
“He’s at the restaurant,” Jeanette who manned the reception said.
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll join him there.”
It wasn’t difficult to find a man having breakfast alone in the B&B dining room.
“Mr. Horace?” I said, standing at a respectful distance.
“That would be me but most people call me Charles. Mr. Horace was my late father.” He had a friendly face and manner.
“Sorry to intrude on your dinner.” I introduced myself and told him why I wanted to see him.
He stood up. “I’m having an early dinner. Will you join me?”
“Thank you but I’ll say no to the dinner. I had a late lunch,” I said.
“So you’re interested in the property?” he asked.
“Very much so,” I said. “And I’m willing to pay cash for it.” I wasn’t being a smart negotiator but I didn’t care. I was so excited to be able to buy the property for Charlotte and Kayden.
It meant that whatever happened between us, they would always have a home. My family would always be taken care of. There was more I needed to do in New York but this was an important first step.
I ordered a coffee as Charles and I compared ways of life in Virginia and New York. The waiter brought my coffee and we went straight into business.
Because I was paying cash, Charles reduced the buying price which pleased me. We agreed that his lawyer in town would draw up the paperwork and the following week, after the necessary inspections were done, I would sign the paperwork.
We shook hands, both of us pleased with the outcome of the meeting. I sat in my car and turned on my cell phone. There were the usual messages from Abigail, but more threatening. I deleted most of them without reading.
There were messages from my father and a voicemail from my mother, asking me to return home as there were things we needed to discuss. I immediately knew what it was about.
I had a thought. Today was Wednesday. Charlotte had the rest of the week off and we had both looked forward to spending Thursday together before leaving for the wedding on Friday.
But she would understand. I could catch a late flight to New York and then come back early on Friday morning. Yeah that could work. I called my secretary and had her book a flight for me.
It felt off to text my mother to tell her I’d be home for dinner that evening. For the last few weeks, I’d eaten dinner with Charlotte every day. It felt so real, while my life back in New York felt unreal, like it belonged to another person.
“I’m back,” I said as I entered the house.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Charlotte called, reminding me of the earlier days when I’d come home from work and she would call out from the bedroom or kitchen.
Kayden grinned at me from his high chair, his face smeared with spaghetti and sauce. He raised a plastic spoon in the air. “Daadd.”
I grinned like a fool. I always did when he called me dad. “You’re feeding yourself! Good job.”