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)
Me: Yeah. She brought some wine to distract me from killing Clay.
Norah: Just so you know, you made Summer’s day. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen that little girl so excited. She said, and I quote, “It was the best thing I’ve ever seen!”
Making Summer happy is well worth my own torment for the very worst of reasons. Without meaning to, I cry a little harder.
Me: I’m glad at least something good came out of it. Give her a kiss for me.
Norah: I will.
I don’t know how much time Summer has left, but I know it’s not long. And that’s so much bigger than everything with Clay.
Don’t get me wrong, spending five years thinking a chapter was closed, only to find out it’s been open the whole damn time, isn’t insignificant. In fact, if I didn’t love Clay Harris so much, I’d definitely hate him.
I chug the rest of my second cup of wine, and when Breezy hands me a third glass, I take it gratefully.
When tragic thoughts of the past threaten to spill into my subconscious, I force them out of my head with sips of wine that turn into gulps that turn into chugs.
I don’t know if it’s possible to drink yourself out of love with someone, but tonight, I’m sure as hell going to try.
35
Josie
Tuesday, August 31st
My brain feels like it’s swimming in my skull, swirling ’round and ’round in a pool of water, and it takes me a hot minute to grab my cup of yummo wine. Good job, Josie Posie. Good job. It’s a mental party in my head when I get the cup into my hands and lift it to my lips.
And the wines go down smoooooooth. Delicious.
I don’t know how long I’ve been drinking, but Breezy is still here and there’s still wine. For me, right now, that’s all I need to know.
“What glass is this, Breezes?” I ask, and she looks up from her phone.
“That’s your fifth, honey.”
“I’ve had fives glasses? Holy shits!” I cackle, and Breezes looks at me weird. “I don’t d-rink a lot.” I scrub a hand down my face after a little burp pops out. “But damn, I prolly should drink more.”
Breezy goes back to looking at her phone. I dunno what she’s doing over there, but I know I like her. She brought me this wine. How couldn’t I like her? Wine is so good. So, so good. I take it upon myself to get up from my chair and pour another. Breezy was doing this for me before, but she’s doing boss bitches shit on her phone and I don’t want to bother her.
“Whoops a daisies,” I mutter when some of the wine spills on the counter. I lift the material of my dress to wipe it off. Good as new. I smile down at the clean counter and do a little celebratory dance on my bare feet. I don’t know where my heels are, but who cares. Heels suck big balls. And the men who love women in heels should shut up. They should wear the heels. Not us women.
I lift my trusty cup of wine to my lips and drink it. And when the drinking isn’t enough drinking because I want more wine, I want a lot of wine, I chug the fucker.
But when I lift the cup again and put it to my lips, nothing comes out. “Shit,” I mutter, staring into the cup to figure out where the wine is at. It’s empty. “Guess I need another.” I grab one of the bottles and try to pour it, but when nothing comes out, I grab the other bottle and just drink from it instead.
Though, the damn thing runs out so quickly. It’s like the wine is disappearing. Where’s Jesus when you need him, you know? Pretty sure he could figure out a way to get me a refill.
“Hey…” I pause when I look at my new bestie, but for the life of me, I can’t think of her name. Shit. What’s her name? I think it’s, like, weathery. Like, something with the weather. Rain? No. Tornado? No. Though, that would be pretty funny if her name was Tornado. Oh! I snap my fingers. It’s the wind!
“Windy,” I call toward her, but she doesn’t look up. “Hey, Windy!” I say louder this time, and she looks up at me with a tilt of her head. “We gots any more wine?”
She shakes her head.
“Shit.”
“I know, it’s a bummer,” she says and pats a chair next to her. “But since we’re out and all, how about you come sit down for a minute?” My face a pouty frown, I head back over to the table and sit down beside her. “How are you feeling?” she questions, putting her phone facedown on the table. I guess she’s done boss bitching. I can’t remember what Windy does, but I know she, like, runs shit. Like real boss bitch shit.