Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Oh, my god.” Nettie starts snorting she’s laughing so hard. “So what did you do?”
It’s as if my twin knew me or something…
“I told him in no uncertain terms that was I never going to be a side chick, and he should know better than to go into a date with false pretenses.”
“And then what?” she asked.
“I told the girl she needed to have some self-respect and find a man that wouldn’t cheat on her,” I answered.
Nettie, my twin sister and best friend, sighed. “That didn’t go over well.”
“Well, not really,” I admitted. “I was sitting there, explaining the virtues of a man that doesn’t cheat—as if I know since I haven’t found one of those yet, but I’ve read about them in my smut novels—when she loses it and tells me that she’s a solid four, and all she can get is another solid four. And that I need to mind my own business, because honestly, ugly people that have a good job are hard to come by.”
That’s when my sister started hyperventilating because she was laughing so hard.
“And then what did you do?” she wheezed.
“I told her if she cut her hair properly, and maybe thought about taking the bull ring she had in her septum—she really did have a bull ring, she told me—and started dressing a little more conservatively, or at least thought about wearing clothes that actually fit her instead of ones that are two sizes too small, she might pick up a decent man.”
More wheezing.
“And her hair was colored this putrid color of green with her brown roots showing at least an inch.” I sighed. “She was a four because she made herself a four. I just wanted her to know that.”
“Then what happened?”
“Stephen started to yell that he wasn’t a four, that he was at least an eight. It degraded from there, and I just got up and left. But not before declaring to the entire bar that was listening that I wasn’t a side chick. And never would be.”
“Jesus.”
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Drills,” she grumbled. “Then about to eat six ounces of chicken breast even though I don’t want it. What are you doing?”
I didn’t bother to tell her that she liked chicken breast, and that she could eat anything else she wanted. Instead, I told her what I was doing.
“Going to Mom and Dad’s.”
“Why?” She sounded affronted that I would even think of doing such a thing.
It was understandable.
Our parents sucked.
Our childhoods had sucked.
My dad sucked more than my mom, but they were both so close in suckage that really there was no point in denying it.
“Because I heard from someone at the church while I was at the grocery store that my parents were both sick, and maybe I should go check on them.” I groaned. “The way she made it sound was that they were both on their deathbed. And maybe I’m hoping to walk in the door and find them both lying on the floor.”
Nettie started cackling.
“Maybe that was a little harsh…”
“Not harsh, and you know it,” Nettie grumbled. “Call me when you get done. Or maybe I’ll call you. Give you an excuse to leave.”
“Perfect,” I said. “That’s actually why I was calling.”
“Not to tell me about your date?”
“Not only to tell you about my date.”
“Get it over with,” she said. “I’ll be calling in ten.”
We hung up and I glanced up at my childhood home.
It still looked just as perfect as the day I’d left it.
Too perfect.
Too pristine yard.
Too perfectly shoveled front walk and driveway.
I hurried into the house, my toes about to fall off due to the frostbite that was licking at the little piggies.
“Mom?”
Nothing.
“Dad?” I called out.
Again, nothing.
Hanging my coat up by the front door, I slipped off my snow-covered boots and rushed toward the fire that was blazing in the wood stove.
Today had been a doozy, and I was exhausted.
And cold.
I wasn’t quite sure how I’d fallen into role of head coach for Jesper County, but I loved it. Mostly.
Today had been a short half day, and there’d been no after-school soccer practice thanks to a mandated state test, so I’d decided to stop by and visit with my parents.
It was my good daughter deed of the week.
“Mom?”
Still nothing.
I headed toward the basement, the only place they could be and not hear me screaming their names, and descended the steps.
I was on the fourth step and looking down when something weird caught my eye.
What the…
There was a break in the wall of the basement.
A doorway.
Something I’d never noticed before.
I frowned hard as I got to the concrete floor of the basement.
Something made me stay silent.
Some inner voice that told me if I called out, I’d hate myself.
So instead, I crept toward the doorway, my ears listening hard as I picked up the quiet murmur of voices.