Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
And maybe it would be a good thing to be out of town. Less temptation to drive to Wellbridge House, shake Frog silly, kiss him senseless, and try to work out all my frustrations in bed.
“Flynn,” Mac said. “You’re not alone. There are plenty of people you can ask for help. Alden and Cas—”
“Yeah.” I’d already been counting on my brothers to help out, though Cas was still not feeling great, and Alden had his own work to do.
He firmed his jaw. “I can help too. If you need me to.”
I nodded and reached for my keys and phone. “I’ll let you know if I do, Mac. Thanks for being here last night,” I said. His large, familiar strength was a comfort.
“Always,” he said before stepping back. “Here.” He took a fist-sized chunk of amethyst from his pocket, an apple from the bowl on the counter, and a small brown paper bag from the counter and handed them all to me, forcing me to juggle my phone and keys to hold it all. “If Willow were here, she’d try to offer you some advice. Since she’s not, I figure I should make sure you have fiber—” He tapped the apple. “—protection from negativity—” He tapped the stone. “—and a snack for the road ’cause you know how you get when you’re hangry.” He smiled. “Find our bro, then kick ass in Portland. The other guys at Brew Fest won’t know what hit ’em.”
I leaned in to give McLean a hug, swallowing back the emotion in my throat. “That’s the plan.” I headed out the door before throwing a “Love you” over my shoulder.
If there was one thing I was grateful to Willow and Huck for, it was raising us to be demonstrative and unafraid of our feelings.
As I made my way out to my truck, I caught sight of one of the small signs in Willow’s community garden that PJ had hand-painted with our mother’s favorite quotes. The signs were so familiar to me I usually didn’t notice them anymore, but today, I saw that one of them was nearly buried in a patch of Japanese knotweed. Eager as I was to get going, I still set my stuff on the dirt by the sign and knelt for a moment to clean it off. Then I smiled slightly as I took in the familiar words. Maybe Willow was sending me some advice.
“No joy can equal the joy of serving others,” the sign read, which was a quote by an Indian spiritual master named Sai Baba, who lived over a hundred years ago. But what Willow Honeycutt always added to the guru’s wise words was this: “And don’t forget to give that joy to others by allowing them to serve you.”
Every time she said it, she seemed to make significant eye contact with me in a way that implied I was stubbornly independent and prideful.
This was accurate.
But it wasn’t as though I didn’t allow anyone to help me. I had a select few people I could trust. Dan, Castor, Alden… though I supposed Dan and Cas were employees, and Alden didn’t help often. And then there was…
I clenched my hands into fists as JT’s face flashed through my brain. Despite my hurt and anger, I realized I missed him already.
I missed his embrace making the whole world warmer. His smile, energizing me when the task before me felt impossible.
I hated that I couldn’t go in the next room and kiss his stupid mouth or pick up the phone and send him a ridiculous text, just to see his response.
In my mind, JT held me in my tiny living room and told a ridiculous story about mittens because he knew my limits. Because he knew me. And cared.
He tried to give you another option, a small voice in my head reminded me. He tried to help. To support you in the best way he knew how since you wouldn’t let him in and tell him what you wanted.
I closed my eyes tightly. Great. My own brain was under JT’s stupid spell and was revolting against me.
Isn’t it time you stopped choosing the worst interpretation of his actions, Flynn?
“Ugh. Fine.” I snatched my keys and my snack bag from the ground, leaving the rest of Mac’s paraphernalia behind, and rolled my eyes heavenward.
JT and I would talk when I got back. Right now, I had way too many other things to do. A long drive to accomplish, a brother to find and lecture, a metric shit-ton of mead to pack up, a Tavern to prepare for my departure, and a Brew Fest ribbon to win.
All by yourself? the voice asked.
I ignored it.
As I took the final few steps to my old truck, I saw another one of my mother’s ridiculous placards.
If you’re looking for a sign, here it is.