Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“No, that’s okay. I’m being silly. I don’t know. I feel really…overwhelmed, I guess. I’m more of an introvert. Maybe that’s why my parents figured I’d like being out here. They really weren’t trying to be mean when they gave me the house. At least, I…I don’t think. Even if they were pissed that I wasted all my college tuition on a useless degree, as they kept saying.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“What?” She frowns deeply.
“What you studied. Your classes.”
“I guess I did, yes.”
“Did you feel fulfilled by it? Challenged? Was your mind reshaped and changed?” I continued probing.
“I…I suppose it was.”
“Then it wasn’t a waste. Not the experience, not the money, not the education, not the degree. It’s not useless.”
She sighs. “I know. Thank you for saying so, but it’s just…they always told me that I’d never make it as a writer. They said it was stupid. That being self-employed is ridiculous. I’ve always had discipline, but they never believed in me. They never supported any of it. I wanted to go to this writing camp in high school. It was in the city. But my parents thought it was stupid, even though it hardly cost anything. I made them lend me the money, and then I got my first job after the writing camp to pay them back. I kept my paychecks and saved up, so that was good, but yeah. They always supported my brother. They paid for all his stuff and even bought him a brand-new car when he graduated college. I guess…I mean, I’m not jealous. I’m just…I suppose the house and land are worth more than a car, and that was their gift to me. They were trying to be fair. But it wasn’t the car or all the stuff they willingly did for him. It was just that they’ve always supported and believed in him. I would just for once like someone to tell me that I’m going to make it.”
“You’re going to make it,” I say properly and with the utmost conviction as I quell the swirling anger in my gut.
She smiles at me shyly and turns away to lean her head against the tree trunk. “Sorry. I barely know you, and here I am, whining about ghosts and airing out all my family’s dirty laundry. Maybe it’s the heat addling my brain. Or maybe it’s just a little too much of everything over the past few days. I really am grateful for all this, even if I’m still doing an inner battle with my great-aunt’s memory.”
“Hey.” I take a chance and set my hand on her shoulder. Her head whips around, and her eyes become huge, the pupils eating up the softer brown until all that’s left is two great, otherworldly black orbs that are so, so incredibly beautiful. I remove my hand quickly, let it hover for a second as my fingers tingly madly, then drop it back down to my side. “It’s fine. I understand. I barged in here with a ton of people and just took over when it’s your house.”
“I’m thankful for that. Seriously. It was uninhabitable, and I really don’t want any more surprise raccoon visits.”
“If that happened to me, I would have shit my pants.” Nice. So eloquent.
She pauses for a second, then throws back her head and laughs. The dappled leaf shadows chase over her pretty features, warming me up another thousand or so degrees on the inside. “It scared me too. I hid under the blanket like I was five. You would think I would know by now that a blanket is a poor shield against just about everything other than a cold breeze, but nope. I still did it.”
“And did it work?’
“Well, not really. I eventually scrambled to the window and opened it, and it went hurtling out through there.”
“That was fast thinking. I would have jumped on top of the bed and done a little dance from one foot to the other while screaming shrilly for my granny to come and save me.”
“You live with your granny?”
I’m slipping up again. I’ve been trained better than this, but there’s something about Victoria’s openness and the sweet goodness she radiates like she’s an angel put here on earth that makes my tongue start to flap.
“I…uh…kind of. We’re close.”
“That’s sweet. Really. And you work with your brother?”
“Yeah. Uh, also…yeah.”
“Wow, that’s great.
“We’re adopted.” Shut it. Seriously. Granny is going to find your tongue and latch onto it with a set of BBQ tongs.
“Oh! I’ve never met someone who was adopted.”
“Yeah, we are. We’re twins.”
“I guessed that, actually. You both look very similar.”
I need to change the subject. And fast. The obvious thing would be to talk about the gardens and landscaping, which is why I came out here in the first place, but I latch onto something else instead. “Reading. Writing. You said you wanted to be a writer. Do you like reading then?”