Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
The crowd cheers. I stare at Josie.
“Forty-six! Forty-five! Forty-four!” Eileen leads everyone into the countdown, and I watch Josie as she smiles at that idiot Dale.
“Sure,” she says, nodding. “That’d be great.”
Dale’s responding smile is so big, Sheriff Pete should write him a fucking ticket for taking up too much space.
“Nineteen! Eighteen! Seventeen!” The countdown dwindles, and I stare at Josie.
By the time the crowd is reaching ten, I’ve positioned myself as close to Josie and her little friend Dale as I can without drawing any attention to myself.
Bennett leans forward to kiss Norah when the crowd reaches five, and she laughs, playfully slapping at his chest and telling him he’s too early. He doesn’t give a shit and just keeps on kissing her.
And when everyone shouts, “One!” Dale turns to Josie.
I don’t know what his plan is, I don’t give a fuck about his plan, and I all but shove him out of the way as I step directly in front of Josie with a smile.
“Clay,” Josie groans when her eyes lock with mine. “What are you doing?”
“Sorry, but I love you too much,” I say and pull her into my arms and hug her. “Happy New Year, Josie.”
I know she wants to bitch at me, but I don’t care. I just hug her and hold her and keep her in my arms until I know I’ve reached the point where she wants to pull away. I feel fucking victorious when she allows it for a good thirty seconds before I start to feel her body tug away from mine.
I step back, smile intact, and when I see Josie’s face is filled with annoyance and she starts to open her mouth to most likely yell at me, I just give her another quick hug and press a soft kiss to her forehead. “I can’t wait to see what this year brings.”
I meet her eyes one last time before spinning on my heel and heading back to The Country Club with a fucking pep in my step.
Resolutions are for pussies, but I guess that’s what I am now. Because I am resolved. Determined. Fucking certain.
This will be the year that I get my wife back.
59
Josie
Sunday, April 17th
Easter in Red Bridge is a whole thing.
Almost everyone goes to Sunday service to pray and listen to Reverend Bob’s sermon, and then the city council hides a bunch of eggs throughout the square for all the kids to find.
Mayor Wallace dresses up like the Easter Bunny. Harold sets out a table of bagels and fruit and cookies and juice for the kids. Melba used to take on that task—and when Grandma Rose was alive, she’d always be right there helping her—but after Melba’s arthritis started to get bad, Harold didn’t hesitate to take over.
I open CAFFEINE and serve free coffee and tea for anyone who comes in, and the whole town pitches in to make it special for the kids.
When I step into my shop, I see that both Todd and Camille have worked hard to get several pots of coffee brewed and have already set up a tea station, hot water ready and waiting in my large stainless-steel dispenser.
“You guys did good,” I tell them, and Camille gives Todd a side-eye.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that,” Todd says with a roll of his eyes. “It wasn’t my fault. That’s the first time I’ve ever used that stupid dispenser.”
Camille looks at me. “He almost burned me alive with that thing!”
“I’ve said I was sorry like a thousand times!” Todd chimes in.
“Yeah, well, it’s hard to accept an apology when my life flashed before my eyes!” Camille claps back. “I’m lucky to be alive!”
Todd rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Fine,” Camille retorts. “I’m lucky I’m not currently being admitted to a burn unit!”
My head bounces back and forth between the two of them like a ping-pong ball, trying to keep up with their bickering.
“Okay.” Todd frowns. “Yeah, that’s probably valid, but my intentions were not to almost spill two gallons of hot water on you. I swear.”
Camille inhales a deep breath through her nose. Todd keeps frowning. And I decide it’s high time for me to step into the fray.
“How about the two of you go enjoy Easter with your families, and I’ll stay here for the egg hunt?” When neither of them responds and Camille crosses her arms over her chest and huffs out a breath, I decide that gentle parenting is not the way to go right now. “Go home,” I demand. “Go home. Cool off. And maybe, you know, remember that Jesus loves you, but he’d be ashamed right now. He’s risen today, for Pete’s sake.”
“You’re kicking us out?” Camille questions with a furrowed brow.
“Yep.” I nod and point toward the door. “And don’t come back until you’ve both hugged it out and made up.”