Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Sounds good.” I close my eyes. “I will also note I don’t like your tone.”
“Duly noted, little sister,” he responds softly. “See you later.”
“Love you,” I say before pressing the end button, then getting up and going into the shower. I comb out my shoulder-length hair before fluffing it with my hands. I’ve always had long hair, but now I don’t let it get longer than my shoulders.
The dread that fills me is something I can’t explain or put into words. I slip my light-blue jeans with holes in the knees on before grabbing the gray tank top that sits right above the waist of the jeans, showing you just a touch of my stomach. I grab my gray sweater and put it on before snatching up my black bag and putting on my white sneakers.
I walk out the front door to my car, my hands shaking when I pull open the door and get behind the wheel. “It’ll be fine,” I tell myself. “The worst that can happen already happened.”
I make my way down the familiar roads, turning on Main Street and heading straight to the little coffee shop that makes the best sugar donuts I’ve ever tasted in my life. I park on the street, getting out of the car and closing the door. I look around to see that people are already looking at me. One woman turns her head and then does a double take, her mouth hanging open in shock at me being here.
I try not to let it bother me; I should be used to it by now. I had to endure it for a full two years before I left. The finger-pointing, the whispers as soon as I walked into the room, the snide comments and remarks until everyone else won, and I packed up and left.
Pulling open the door to the bakery, I’m assaulted with the smell of sugary goodness right away, and my mouth waters. The woman, Maddie, behind the counter looks up from placing a tray in the window stand. "Well, I'll be." She wipes her hands on her apron. “If it isn’t Autumn Thatcher.” She smiles at me. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Hello, Ms. Maddie.” I walk to the counter, trying to hide the fact that my hands are shaking and so is my voice.
“You are skin and bones.” She looks me up and down. “They don’t feed you where you are.” The worry is in her voice and also in her eyes.
I laugh. “Nothing like home cooking, I guess,” I tell her. “Can I have a box of donuts?” I look at the case. “Half sugar, half powdered.”
“Sure thing, missy.” She grabs a box to fill it, and the sound of bells ringing behind me means someone opened the door. My hands instantly start to shake, wondering if it will be someone I know. I mean, it’s a small town. The question is, who is it going to be?
My neck gets heated, but I don’t turn my head to look behind me as I wait for Maddie to hand me the blue-and-white box. She rings up the amount, and I pay her. I turn my head down and walk past the two people waiting in line. Lucky for me, it’s not someone who recognizes me. My chest gets tight, making breathing harder and harder. It comes in little breaths now as I rush toward my car. Getting in, I set the donuts on the seat next to me before putting my hands on the steering wheel. My head falls forward as I try to focus on my breathing, knowing I’m in the middle of having a panic attack. I haven’t had one in six years since I left town.
I close my eyes, counting to ten and then to twenty. Only when I’m at a hundred do I feel even remotely better. I start the car, making my way to my family home. The street is lined with willow trees, and I have this sense of peace when I’m driving down it. Like nothing can hurt me and it’s okay that I’m here.
I pull into the driveway, parking behind my dad’s pickup, before grabbing the box of donuts. I have one foot out the door when I hear the storm door slam shut. “What in God’s name are you doing here?” His voice feels like a big hug, and I have to close my eyes to stop myself from breaking down. Instead, I turn to him and put a big smile on my face, though it’s mixed with tears.
“Is that any way to welcome your only daughter home?” I ask him as I walk up the four steps to the house I grew up in, ignoring the fact he looks pale and he’s lost about thirty pounds since the last time I saw him. “Especially when I come with donuts.”