Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
“Boyfriend’s going to love that photo,” Oscar says to me, being serious. I hold onto that fact and almost laugh.
I lean my ass on the barstool. “He’ll most likely save it as his lock-screen.”
And then he’ll make an excuse about how it’s because I hate the picture.
Oscar cuts a box open. “No, he’ll print that one out, Redford. Then he’ll frame it and hang it in every house you’re in for eternity.”
Eternity?
My brows rise at Oscar. He stares at me right in the eye, and I doubt anyone else but Donnelly realizes how he’s not joking right now. And then Oscar nods at me like he knows.
He knows that what I have with Maximoff isn’t temporary. Not just on my end, but on my boyfriend’s end, too. It’s not something he’s expressed before.
But I remember that Oscar was at the crash site. Holding an umbrella over us. He heard Maximoff and me. Saw him say his goodbyes. Saw us together, thinking it could’ve been the last time.
Raw emotion squeezes my throat.
I nod back.
We don’t need to exchange any words. I pass him an envelope addressed to Charlie that slipped beneath my stack.
“Thatch, anything good?” Donnelly asks.
“Thatcher,” he reminds him, folding a letter. “And it’s private.” Thatcher gently places the letter in a wicker basket labeled Jane.
I sort through six get well soon cards sent to Maximoff and save them. He’ll read each one, even if it takes him hours. The next envelope, I freeze on the return address and the familiar name.
“Oliveira,” I say, “why is your mom sending cards to my boyfriend?” I flash the envelope at Oscar.
“I have one for you. Hold on.” Oscar lifts a few boxes and grabs a letter. He chucks it at my face.
I catch it easily.
Oscar nods to me. “She didn’t know if she should send you two separate invites or one together. I went through seven phone calls in one hour, Redford. Just to reassure her that two were fine.”
I cock my head. “Did you tell Sônia that I wouldn’t have given a shit either way?”
“Yeah, I reminded her who you are.” Oscar grabs two more letters. “And then she pulled the Farrow has no mom on me. Look, she’s fucking frazzled that the Boyfriend is a Famous Boyfriend. Additional note: you both need to RSVP separately.”
“Sure.” I rip open the one addressed to me and read the invitation.
Please join us for the confirmation of our daughter Joana Raquel Sousa Oliveira.
My brows arch. For as long as I’ve known Oscar, I’ve only met his eighteen-year-old sister once or twice.
“I know,” Oscar tells me, “but it’s a big deal.”
I skim the details.
Location: a local Catholic church.
Date: a Sunday afternoon next month.
I frown.
Shit.
Probability that I’ll be stuck in the hospital working that day = extremely high.
What’s worse: years ago I couldn’t attend Quinn’s confirmation for the same reason. This’ll be the second time that I bail on the Oliveira family, and I’m not feeling great about it.
Maximoff will definitely want to go, and I would’ve loved to be his date to this. There’ll be others.
It reminds me how Maximoff has been planning our “first” formal date. In my eyes, we’ve been on a hundred-and-twelve dates already. In wolf scout’s eyes, they were all “semi-dates” since I had to keep up the bodyguard charade. I couldn’t eat dessert off his plate. Couldn’t kiss him. Couldn’t even hold his hand.
All restrictions are gone now, and honestly, I love how much Maximoff is treating this like it’s all new, all over again. Because there are very few feelings I love more than experiencing firsts with him.
I slip the invite into its envelope.
Oscar holds out two more cards to the guys. “Moretti, Kitsuwon.” Thatcher and Akara grab their invites.
I eye Donnelly who easily brushes off the rejection. Caring and loving parents worry about guys like Donnelly befriending their children. On paper, he reads like a bad influence.
In reality, he’s not.
I recognize the greatest benefit of having a father who really only cared about medicine. I was able to invite Donnelly everywhere. And Donnelly always said yes and came along.
I unsnap a rubber band off a package. “Joana is finally going through with it?” I ask Oscar since I witnessed the Oliveira family meltdown when she refused to get confirmed two years ago. I wasn’t raised in a religious household, but her decision appeared like a familial betrayal.
Quinn chimes in, “Only because our avó stopped talking to Jo.” He uncovers an alien plushie from tissue paper.
Thatcher pockets his invite. “If I’d been confirmed late, my grandma would’ve done the same to me.”
Oscar discards a Charlie Motherfucking Cobalt mug. “She’s lucky that I’m picking up our avó from the airport next week.”
I skim another get well card. “You volunteer for that, Oliveira, or were you selected for the slaughter?”
“My confirmation gift to my baby sister,” he explains, slicing open another box. “What’d I miss when Charlie went to the bar?” He means from tonight. We all joined in trivia with the famous ones, but we were also all on-duty. Consequently, Oscar had to follow his client away from our booth.