Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Spencer looked amused. “You do that? As an adult?”
“It’s fun,” I said. Then I addressed the kids. “I can keep a hoop going around my waist, my neck, my arms, or my legs.” The twins looked suitably impressed, but it suddenly occurred to me how long it would be before I’d be able to do that kind of thing again. “What are you good at that’s slightly embarrassing, Lucas?”
Raphael translated my words into sign language for Charlotte’s benefit while the little boy thought it over. “I can do a cartwheel.”
“Why is that embarrassing?” I asked.
He flushed. “Well, it’s kind of a girl thing.”
“No, it’s not,” Spencer and I said at the same time. Then he continued. “There are some amazing gymnasts who are male.”’
After a little more discussion, Spencer finally decreed that it was time to dig in. Raphael turned to me. “Careful, it’s hot.” I had a feeling that he wasn’t talking about physical heat, but about spices. I put a piece of bread on my plate in case I might need it to calm the fire in my mouth, and then cautiously took a bite.
It was delicious. Rich and spicy and filling. By my fourth bite, I was enjoying it too much to be cautious. Yes, it was spicy, but also delicious. “This is amazing,” I told Raphael.
“He’s the best cook in the family,” Spencer said.
“The shrimp are so tender, but full of flavor. How’d you do that?”
Raphael smirked. “They’re not shrimp.”
“They’re not?” A sinking feeling filled me. What if they were baby snakes or something?
“It’s crawfish etouffee,” Spencer explained. “It’s a favorite around here.”
“And Uncle Rafe makes it the best,” Lucas said. He had a bit of red sauce on his cheek.
Crawfish? Had I had one of those before? Quite frankly, I wasn’t entirely sure what they were. But my stomach was still rumbling, so I decided to pretend it was shrimp and just enjoy the meal.
And it was one hell of an enjoyable meal. The sun set, and Spencer turned on a string of lights hung along the railings. The kids talked about school in a mixture of spoken words and sign language. Charlotte, in particular, had a very long story about a tiff she and her friend had gotten into at recess. She started out talking, but soon switched to sign language. Raphael translated, speaking softly as I watched the girl’s animated face.
As she told the story—the very long story—I heard noise coming from Flynn’s place. Was he in the barn? There was a light coming from it.
I heard a thud and the sounds of someone moving around in there. At one point, I even heard a whinny. Did he own horses?
Since it seemed like mentioning Flynn was a bit of a sore spot, I didn’t ask. Instead, I savored the food, the fresh air, the fantastic view, and the company. I couldn’t help but compare this meal with the ones I’d shared with my parents when I was a child. They were always so formal. Laughing loudly or telling long, elaborate stories would’ve gotten me sent to my room.
It was too bad Mason and I hadn’t been closer as kids. It was so much fun to see Charlotte and Lucas together. They seemed so close they finished each other’s sentences—whether they were speaking or signing.
When everyone was done, the others began clearing the table. It felt weird to be waited on like that, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. While the plates, bowls, and dishes disappeared, I looked back toward Flynn’s place.
At one point, when the others were all inside, the light in the barn went out. Then Flynn himself emerged. He was wearing black jeans, boots, and a t-shirt.
He looked up, his gaze fixed on the deck. I raised my hand and gave him a wave.
He didn’t wave back.
Then Raphael and Lucas came out to retrieve more things, breaking my focus. When I looked back at the place next door, Flynn was nowhere to be seen.
9
Alyssa
After forty-eight hours of being inside, most of that time spent in bed, it was great to get out of the house. Raphael took me to my doctor’s appointment on Friday morning and waited while the doctor checked my ribs, my wrist, and my leg.
When it was time to talk about physical therapy and other aspects of my recovery, I asked for someone to get Raphael to join us. He seemed much more up-to-speed about those kinds of issues. Plus, I was a tad squeamish about medical things, where he obviously was not. He asked some smart questions, and I was glad to have him there.
Afterwards, I expected we’d return home, but Raphael went through a drive-through and then took me out to the lake. He backed his pickup truck into an isolated parking spot near the water. It took a lot of maneuvering, but I ended up fairly comfortable, with my bad leg spread out on the bed of the truck and my other leg dangling down. Raphael sat opposite me, and I watched the water while he got lunch set up.