Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I wheeze, bending in half. “What. The. Fuck?”
Winston leans down, growling, “I was on my honeymoon, asshole.”
Avery takes his arm, soothing my brother as she pulls him away from me. “It’s okay. We’ll go on a trip another time. I want to check on Grandpa Joe anyway.”
Winston grunts and grabs both suitcases, tossing them into the trunk angrily.
Straightening up, I look to Wren and repeat, “What the fuck?”
Wren forces a plastic smile, ignoring my question. “Well, now that the gang’s all here, let’s get going. Um, Avery . . . you want to go to your place?”
Avery smiles sweetly and nods. “Yeah, you three can talk and I’ll make Grandpa Joe’s favorite cowboy cookies for everyone.”
We climb in the car, and I start to ask Winston what the hell crawled up his ass and died, but Wren cuts me off. “Not yet. Let’s do that all at once. First, I want to hear about the short honeymoon you did have.”
Winston lifts his chin, meeting Wren’s eyes in the rearview mirror, but then looks out the window.
Avery answers instead, telling us about the beach outside their villa, and the seals that would come right up onshore. “We had fresh seafood every day, and if we tossed the fish, the seals would catch it. I clapped for them, and then they started clapping back for themselves too. It was basically the most adorable thing ever.”
Wren gives Avery a small, but genuine, smile. “Sounds like it,” she answers, but she’s glancing in the mirror at Winston and keeping her eye on me at the same time. Considering what’s just happened, she’s probably worried we’re going to start beating the hell out of each other.
And while I definitely don’t like my brother putting one in my ribs . . . I’m going to let it slide until I know more about what the hell’s going on.
Wren pulls up to what must be Avery’s house. It’s a cottage-style place that looks small from the outside. I’d guess two bedrooms at most, but it’s well cared for, solid and strong, with a recent white paint job with beige trim.
The inside’s just as neat as the outside, with worn but clean and well-cared-for hardwood floors, walls that are the same light green as the trim, and furniture that’s clean but just this side of needing retirement.
And Grandpa Joe, who’s sitting in a gray fabric recliner and looking spry as ever. “Well now, don’t tell me I went and forgot a whole week!” he says as Avery goes over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “If I did, you might need to check my drawers. I probably dropped a deuce or two I’m not noticing!”
“No, we came back early,” Avery says with a smile. “And you look great, Grandpa Joe. I hope you don’t mind I came with . . . well, guests.”
“Guests?” Joe says, then grins. “Look like family to me. You look good, Winston.”
“Thanks, Joe.”
“Wren, pretty as ever,” Joe says before his eyes go to me and I can see him lick his lips, looking for my name most likely.
“Wyatt, sir,” I remind him, offering a hand. “Remember me from the wedding?”
Joe grins, and shakes. “Yeah I do, you’re the one that forgot how to escort a pretty young lady down the aisle and thought it was an all-you-can-eat buffet, pick the one you want.”
“Um, well . . .” He’s not wrong, but I look to Avery for backup, not wanting to explain myself to Joe. He sees the move and takes full advantage of my imbalance and leans forward, dropping the feet of his recliner.
“How’s that working out for you? Our Hazel is a might bit . . .” He pauses, tapping his temple as he searches for the word.
“Amazing?” I suggest after a moment, strongly implying he should choose his next words carefully.
Grandpa Joe laughs. “I was going for headstrong and mouthy, but I think amazing works just fine.” He smiles and I feel like I received some degree of approval from Grandpa Joe.
Avery is quick to take the win, and beams. “Grandpa, can I put The Price Is Right on for you while I make some cookies? The Fords need to have a little family chitchat.”
“I reckon you can, but make sure you don’t turn the TV up too loud,” Grandpa Joe says before dropping a wink. “I want to be able to eavesdrop from my recliner.”
Avery rolls her eyes, helping Grandpa Joe get set up just the way he likes. His home health aide shows up just as she brings out a mug of warm milk and assures us that she’ll keep an eye on Joe while discreetly keeping her earbuds in, listening to her own program on her phone.
Assured as we can be, we sit down at Avery’s kitchen table, silent until she gets back and starts pulling out ingredients to bake. Wren decides to take the lead. “Okay, let’s start from the beginning. Wyatt, you go first. Tell us about your day yesterday and how you ended up at the biggest protest in Cold Springs history.”