Home > Craft (The Gibson Boys #2)(24)

Craft (The Gibson Boys #2)(24)
Author: Adriana Locke

“Damn right.” A somber look crosses her face. “I want you to remember something for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You can’t choose how people treat you or the actions they take. They get up in the morning and have to see the ugly things they do reflected in their face.” She rolls her wheelchair back and then centers it in front of me so we’re face-to-face. “You, dear girl, only have to live with how you let them affect you. When you look in the mirror, you get to see all the pretty that you are inside and which you radiate.”

“Sometimes they make me feel really ugly,” I admit.

“Because you let them.” It’s the simplest answer she could give and the one that hits the hardest. “When you get to be my age, you start thinking a lot about death. You look back on your life and think of all the people you already lost and know the people you see around this room will start dropping like gnats.”

“Gretchen!”

“It’s true,” she shrugs. “But listen to me—life isn’t that complicated. It’s meant to be lived with those we can’t live without.”

“That sounds pretty complicated.”

“It’s not.”

It’s such a simplistic way of looking at things and couldn’t possibly hold true. There’s no room in that philosophy to account for the unknown: other people, or emotions, or the bad things that can happen to us.

“You live your life and you fill it with all those people who make you feel like getting up in the morning. The ones who give you life. And the rest of them?” She blows a breath. “The rest of them you just let go.”

“Even if it’s my mother?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs. “Maybe not. Here’s a rule of thumb for you: treat people how you’d treat them if you knew they’d be dead tomorrow. Because they might be. Sometimes that means forgiving and moving on and sometimes it’s just forgiving. The key to it is finding your joy and what you need to do for you—not them.”

The events coordinator taps me on the shoulder. “We have a man who just came in from outside and didn’t get a cupcake. He’s very upset. You don’t have any more, do you?”

“You know I do,” I laugh. “I’ll go grab them.” Before I get up, I look back at Gretchen. “I appreciate you, you know that?”

“You bring me joy. Great joy, Mariah.”

I make my way outside. The sun is a bold orange with its promise to dip behind the horizon. Thinking about what Gretchen said and then about baby Betsy and my grandmother, I know what I want to do.

Unlocking the car, I get into the back seat first. My purse is on the floorboard and I pull it up next to me.

Grabbing my phone, I flip through the screen until I see the app. Just the green logo with blue letters make me feel like a different person. Stronger. More confident. And it’s not until I swipe my finger over the image and see Lance’s icon, that I realize why.

This is why it was so easy for me to open up to him. He doesn’t just make me feel good in general. He makes me feel good about me.

With each tap of my fingers on the screen, some of my confidence gets wiped out by nerves. I hit ‘send’ in a flurry before I can talk myself out of it.

Me: Any chance you’d reconsider that date?

The little bubbles appear almost instantly and I hold my breath until the words he typed appear on the screen.

History Hunk: Oh, probably. My schedule is pretty open at the moment.

What does he mean by that? Am I bothering him by asking? Maybe he’s over this. Maybe he has a date.

Chewing my bottom, lip, I type out the fastest answer in the history of texting.

Me: Well, if you’re busy …

History Hunk: STOP. I’m free. Tell me when and where.

My fingers are swift over the keys, falling right back into the groove.

Me: My mom’s house. Saturday afternoon? *bites nails*

History Hunk: I’ll bring Mace.

Me: You’re the best.

History Hunk: You haven’t seen the start of it. ;)

Me: Gotta go.

History Hunk: Chocolate cupcakes tomorrow? Peanut butter icing?

Me: Bye.

Seventeen

Mariah

“My, you look beautiful today.” Lance starts the engine and pulls out onto the street. “Did you do something new to your hair?”

“Why are you being weird?” I laugh, fastening my seatbelt. I have no idea how we can fall into such an easy rhythm, like this is what we do and nothing awkward ever happened, but we do and I’m more grateful for it today than ever.

He looks at me over his shoulder. “I read a book on manners. It said I should compliment you when I see you.”

“I believe the first thing you said to me was, ‘I knew you’d cave,” I say, yawning.

“I tried.” He wrinkles his forehead. “Sleepy?”

“A little. It hit me around two this morning what I was up against today. Makes it hard to sleep.”

The car pulls onto the highway toward Lancaster and the address I gave Lance earlier. The traffic is light, the sun bright. Now that we’re in the car and on the way, a sharp, almost bitter sensation has its claws in my gut.

Instead of focusing on that, I focus on Lance.

He’s wearing a collared shirt the color of jade with a pair of dark jeans. He’s chosen to don the pair of black glasses I love which he wears on occasion. It’s the confidence, I think, that his glasses portray that makes me swoon when I see them on his face. There’s a fraction of stubble along his jaw that lends a casual vibe to his ensemble It’s glorious.

Tucking my hands under my thighs just so I don’t touch him, I try to refocus my attention on the road ahead.

“What’s the game plan today?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, are we going eye-for-an-eye or playing nice? I can do either, but I’d like to have some operational direction before we go in.”

Pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I worry it back and forth.

There’s no telling how this is going to go. I haven’t seen Chrissy in forever except for an accidental run-in at the pharmacy during Easter. Every interaction between us is heated, the result of a lifetime of competition that I didn’t sign up for.

It hurts. When I was a little girl and Mom and Chrissy would take off to do a pageant or go for a girl’s day at the spa and I was left home alone, I would get angry. Not that I wanted to do those things; I just wanted to be included. Then, in my early twenties, I switched. Numbing myself from it was easier. I didn’t need them. When I met Eric I was sure I’d met the man I was going to start my own family with—and then he leaves me for them. It was like he conspired with the enemy and they all laughed in my face. The pain, the anger, wasn’t just from losing Eric. It was from losing him to them, losing him to the same people he was supposed to protect me from.

“I don’t know what the plan is,” I admit. “Maybe we should just go back home?”

Expecting a witty retort, I hold my breath and wait. Lance surprises me instead.

“I think we should go,” he states.

“Why?”

He mulls over my question, tapping out the song on the radio against his thigh. We speed around a car and he takes a drink of coffee from a to-go cup before turning to me.

“I think we should go because I’d give anything to celebrate a birthday with my Mom,” he says.

My heart pulls at his expression. He looks so lonely, even though I’m right here, so I pull his hand off his thigh and hold it gently in mine. The contact isn’t the bolt of lightning it usually is. It’s a soft, gentle buzz that I feel in every cell of my body. In return, he gives me the slightest upturn of his lips, but that’s all.

“I’m sorry your parents passed away,” I say. His hand is warm and firm, sturdy just like he is, as I roll it over in my palm. His fingers move against mine in a lazy dance that feels entirely too good.

He squeezes my fingers, holding them tight for a long second, before pulling his hand away. He uses the now-freed palm to turn the steering wheel leading us off the highway and into downtown Lancaster.

“My family isn’t like yours though,” I say. A bubble of anxiety hits me as we stop at the first light in town. “It’s almost like they aren’t my family. I’m just an attachment. I got thrown in at the last second like those apple pies at fast-food joints that you add for ninety-nine cents and then never eat. That’s me.”

“Come on,” he jokes. “You’re at least the chocolate pie.”

“I don’t know …” I say, the end of my words tinged with a laugh.

“You want to leave? We leave. You want to be the last person there? We stay. I’m here for you.” He looks me dead in the eye and I fight hard not to let him see me melt into a puddle. “If things get rough, just climb on my back and I’ll haul your ass out.” His head goes side-to-side like he’s thinking. “I might grab your ass on the way out though. Just warning you.”

“You’d hate that, wouldn’t you?”

“Hell no,” he grins. “I might do it just to show your ex what he’s missing.”

My face twists up as I come to terms with seeing Eric. There’s a question dangling in the air but Lance doesn’t ask it. I wait until we hit the next stoplight and then just ask him what’s on his mind.

“This Eric, that’s his name right?” He asks as I nod. “How serious were you?”

I think back on the day he broke things off with me. How he called me at work and asked me to come right to his apartment because he wanted to talk. How that day I thought maybe, just maybe, this was the talk I was waiting for—the one that came dotted with a simple ring and a promise of a lifetime.

This is not something I want to discuss with Lance. It’s somewhat embarrassing, even though I know it’s not necessarily a reflection of me. It took me a long, long time to even semi-believe that and I’m not to the point where I can rock that attitude like it’s my job. Yet.

   
Most Popular
» Nothing But Trouble (Malibu University #1)
» Kill Switch (Devil's Night #3)
» Hold Me Today (Put A Ring On It #1)
» Spinning Silver
» Birthday Girl
» A Nordic King (Royal Romance #3)
» The Wild Heir (Royal Romance #2)
» The Swedish Prince (Royal Romance #1)
» Nothing Personal (Karina Halle)
» My Life in Shambles
» The Warrior Queen (The Hundredth Queen #4)
» The Rogue Queen (The Hundredth Queen #3)
romance.readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024