Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“You love my idea about the painter’s tape, don’t you, Mommy?”
“I really do. You’re an inspiration, Riley. Now and always. Don’t ever forget it.”
NINE
Fisher
There isn’t a world where I thought I’d be driving around rural Colorado in a truck. But as Vivian is fully occupied in the studio or with her baby and husband, I have a lot of free time on my hands, and Byron’s truck means I can get off the grounds of the Colorado Club. I guess I should rent something. I just didn’t expect to need to leave the Club. Apart from to get some wings at Grizzly’s
But I’m not heading to Grizzly’s today. I’m headed back to Juniper’s place. I’m still a little pissed she didn’t tell me about her daughter. But I’m also pissed that I’m pissed. I know it’s slightly irrational. She didn’t owe me anything. It’s just I thought I knew her. It felt like I could see into her soul at times. I’m not often wrong about people. Not anymore. But now? Now it feels like I got Juniper wrong, and it fucking bites.
Since my parents divorced, I don’t let people in often, not really. I don’t want to give more than I get. I don’t trust you unless I know you. Properly know you. Until I’ve seen you weak and vulnerable. I might have been a kid, but my parents spent years pretending they were happy and then turned around and upended my world by telling me it had all been a lie. So, now I assume everyone’s a liar until they prove me otherwise.
Everyone sees the affable, happy Fisher, but they don’t get any deeper than that. But Juniper did. She scratched the surface, and getting her wrong stings.
I pull up outside her house. The light’s on inside, and I figure at eight thirty, her daughter is in bed.
I get out of the truck and look up, and Juniper is on the porch. She offers me a small smile, and it hurts in my gut. Her normal wide, warm smile is tamped down, and I don’t like it.
“Hey,” I say, arriving at the top of the steps to the porch.
“Hey, Fisher. I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
She’s sitting on a bench, and she has a glass of wine in her hand. There’s a book on the table beside her, the cover facing down, a bookmark poking out of the top. Her hair is down, and she doesn’t have a scrap of makeup on. She seems so completely herself, and it pulls me in like I’ve never experienced before. But why when I don’t know her?
“I said I’d put you in contact with someone in the art world in New York. I’m a man of my word. I didn’t have your number, because my phone ate it or something, I’m not sure what happened. Anyway, I wanted to drop off Grace’s details to you.”
She narrows her eyes slightly, like she wasn’t expecting me to say what I just said. “That’s very nice of you.”
“I said I’d do it. And so here we are.”
“Here we are,” she says in a mock British accent. She smiles. “But seriously, I know you’re…” She takes in a breath. “Pissed off. Angry. I’m sorry…” Juniper doesn’t meet my eye. “I didn’t lie to you,” she says. “But I’m heartbroken about the fact that Riley wasn’t the first thing you knew about me. She’s the most important thing in my life. I feel like a horrible mother. I obviously got caught up in a silly fantasy for a second there. But this is my real life.” She laughs. “She’s my whole life. And she’s great.”
All my anger and resentment are swept away, and I believe her completely. It’s like something unknots in my stomach, and I can breathe again. I truly believe she wasn’t lying.
“There was no reason to tell me. We’ve met each other twice, and… I get it.”
She laughs, and it’s a deep belly laugh, and it warms something in me.
“Well, I’m not sure you get it, Fisher. But I appreciate it.”
She pats the bench next to her, and I gladly take a seat. Being mad at Juniper felt like swallowing sand when I was expecting caviar. Now, here with her, everything is back to how it should be. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel better when I’m with her than I have for years.
“You want some wine? Beer?”
I shake my head. “I’m driving. I’m not saying no because I’m mad. I’m not. It’s just… I’m… particularly sensitive when I’m caught by surprise by someone.”
“That’s an interesting way to describe yourself. Tell me more, Fisher from New York.”
I pull in a breath. I expected to drive down here, hand her Grace’s contact details, and then head out. I wasn’t expecting to get into this conversation. But I don’t want to leave.