Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 80342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
I shook it off and started the car. No sense in sitting here watching when I could be home with them. I drove home combing the streets for any sign of the Rover looking down side streets each time I stopped at a light. I’m pretty sure Lauren was long gone from the city if not the state
I would’ve thought by now that the cops would’ve used the GPS in the SUV to find her but I guess that stuff only works in the movies. In real life these things take time and a lot of effort. I’d given them permission to do whatever they needed to since the vehicle was in my name so that should help cut through some of the red tape but I wasn’t holding out much hope at this point.
She was back downstairs and the girls were tucked up in their cribs by the time I reached the house. She acted as if she hadn’t heard me come in as she sat in my favorite chair reading a book. “Jenny!” She lifted her head and for a second I saw a flash of her on her back with me looking down at her. What the fuck.
I shook my head and reached for my wallet. The smile I gave her was a bit strained and I kept taking peeks at her to see if she was acting any different. I wanted to ask about her reserved attitude. Granted as a kid she was unusually quiet, this smacked of something else.
“Do I make you nervous?” I don’t think I meant to ask that out loud but she didn’t even react, not the way a normal teenager would, with a giggle and a blush maybe. She just lifted those eyes to mine and with a deadpan stare and said, “No Mr. Masters, why ever would you think that?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing.” I was having another one of those flashes of something that kept eluding me. What is it? Why when she turns her head a certain way does it seem like I’m supposed to remember something? I shrugged it off as I walked her to the door to let her out and lock it behind her.
JENNY
“Jenny, what’s all this?” Mom eyed the bags in my hands as aunt Claire sipped what I’m sure was her third or fourth martini for the day as she sat around the marble island in one of our kitchens. I looked down at the bag of groceries I’d picked up on a whim after leaving Derrick.
Well, that’s not quite accurate, it couldn’t be called a whim since I’d put so much thought into it. “Since Mrs. Masters isn’t feeling well and the Masters are gone away on holiday I felt bad that Mr. Masters would be all alone with no one to spend the day with, plus he won’t be getting a turkey dinner like everyone else so, I’m going to make him Thanksgiving dinner and take it over to him tomorrow.”
“What did she just say? The Masters, masters what?”
“Hush Claire and drink your martini.” Mom shook the shaker and held it out to pour the last of the gin into the other woman’s half full glass. She gave me a sly look as she did and I held my grin.
Aunt Claire has been divorced for five years but every holiday she acts like the ink is still wet on the papers unless mom distracts her first, and vodka or gin always seems to do the trick.
“That sounds like a great idea, you’re so thoughtful hon, isn’t it strange? You used to have such a crush on him when you were younger remember?”
“Ooh, Jenny’s got a boyfriend.” Aunt Claire opined in a singsong voice as she emptied her glass before shaking the dregs from the shaker into her glass. My face heated up and I stood there awkwardly, pleading with mom to do something about her sister.
“What’s this, my little girl is finally dating? Who’s the lucky boy? When do I get to meet him?” Dad came into the room with my uncle and my mortification knew no end.
“Okay now y’all, that’s enough, poor Jenny’s turned red as a tomato.”
“You know I love you baby, I just want to make sure that whoever this boy is he’s good enough for my little girl.” I want to crawl between the floorboards and die. If you only knew dad, if you only knew.
“We were talking about Derrick, Jenny’s going to cook for him since his wife isn’t feeling too well.”
“Who’s this Derrick and why is our little princess cooking for him?” Uncle Frank popped a crudité off the tray mom was preparing for later into his mouth and grinned at me.
“He’s Jenny’s childhood crush.” Geez, has my family always been this nerve racking? Then again how could they know? Just play it off Jenny. Play along with the joviality and no one would guess your dirty little secret.