Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134830 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
I say nothing, because it sounds like Dani’s venting a pain that’s been weighing on her for a long time. So I keep washing, letting her continue, though I kinda want to tell her that her dad’s an idiot, a sentiment I don’t think she’d appreciate despite her own feelings on the matter.
“I argued my ass off,” Dani finally says, setting the cleaver aside and picking up a chef’s knife.
Atta girl, I think. I bet she argued loud and long and with everything she has.
“And if Mama had been on my side, maybe he would’ve listened. Even if was just temporary, you know? But they were united. Only Xavier could take over the restaurant. But he was never going to do that. He already had a wife, a baby, and a job that paid enough to support them and help Mama and Papa with the medical bills.” She pauses for a long time, so long that I think that’s the end of her story. But finally, she says, “They closed it down rather than let me do it.”
“Dayum,” I hiss.
“Yeah,” Dani says, her voice barely a whisper. She goes back to sharpening, the knife sweeping back and forth across the stone. “Luckily, I was able to keep some of the equipment. The pots, the pans, the knives. One of the older gas burners. The smoker out back, since it was a handmade job welded up by a friend of Papa’s as a trade for two weeks’ worth of lunches for his crew. Those things wouldn’t fetch shit when it came to resale, and they thought I could use them when I got married.” She scoffs, and I think that’s an entirely different scab she’s trying to heal. “Anyway, I told the customers I was going to figure something out, and I did. Now, they come to me for lunch.”
Dani goes quiet, her hands never stopping even though she’s lost in her thoughts. I don’t think she ever quits moving, working, struggling, fighting to prove something to herself and her parents.
I keep washing, my own mind whirling. “I think we’re more alike than you’d expect,” I say. I’m not gonna deep dive into my own family shit with her, as neither of us needs that, but I do feel some sense of similarity with her—both of us disappointing our families because we’re not what they want us to be.
Dani’s brows climb her forehead. “Yeah, you come to that conclusion after seeing my thirty-thousand-dollar Harley sitting out front?” she asks snarkily.
I laugh, not mad at her assessment when it’s the truth.
“Lucille cost more than that,” I admit, “seeing as she’s custom. And you liked riding with me.” She huffs out in feigned annoyance, and I continue, seeing the interest in her eyes. “But in some ways, I’m trying to prove something to my family too.”
“What’re they like?”
I try to think about how best to describe my family. We’ve gone through a lot in the last few years. My oldest brother, Cameron, lost his wife and never fully recovered. My second oldest brother, Carter, left the family business in a blaze of glory. Two of my brothers, Chance and Cole, told Dad to fuck off a long time ago in their own very different ways. And my sister, Kayla, somehow expertly straddles Dad’s world at work while being Mom’s right-hand woman the rest of the time. And then there’s me.
“Perfect, other than me,” I confess. “They all fit some sort of mold my dad has, either working for him or striking out on their own in ways that make him proud.”
“Your dad’s not proud of you?”
Damn, she clued on to that fucking fast. And no, he’s not, which pisses me off. And hurts. But I cover the hurt up by annoying the hell out of Dad so he’s pissed off too. Just two angry assholes, me and him.
That’s not what I tell Dani, though. Nope, I fix a smile on my face and let out a deep chuckle. “I don’t think he is or isn’t. I’m not something he thinks about, unless it’s to curse my existence, which I give him cause to do regularly.” Dani frowns, and I explain, “With as many siblings as I have, life was always crisis management as we grew up. Who needed to be where and when, mostly. I was the baby, so Mom hauled me along to everyone’s games, awards, tutoring, or whatever, or I got left with a babysitter. Dad was there for the big stuff, like holidays or family dinners, but I was basically an afterthought. But there’s one sure-fire way to get distracted people to pay attention to you,” I tease, genuinely grinning as I recall some of the antics I’ve pulled.
“I’m afraid to ask.” Dani’s cringing as if she’s already imagining the worst.