Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Because there is.” Nodding toward the door, she says, “Come on.”
I get up and rub my shoulder to ease the twinge. She grabs her bag and is out the door when I stop to take one last look around. Nothing is particularly out of the ordinary for what I’d expect from a girl’s room, but she’s not a girl anymore. She’s a woman who’s outgrown this space.
Dolly greets us when we come down the stairs, holding a photo for me to take. “I wanted to show this to you.”
The photograph has yellowed a bit with age, and the edges have seen better days, but the two kids are unmistakable. The girl and her red hair, the boy in his blue suit with matching bow tie, sitting together on these very stairs. The lighting isn’t great, but as they look down, the girl with a daisy in her hand, I can remember the exact day. I remember the girl, sitting on the stairs with tears in her eyes.
I take the photo and hold it for a closer look, my chest tightening and a lump forming in my throat as I stare at her. “I remember you.”
“You do?” Autumn moves closer to me, her eyes volleying between mine as she waits for answers.
“That day. I remember sitting here with you after the funeral.” I glance down the hall. “People from town had crowded the living room and overflowed from the kitchen. People were cooking on barbecue pits in the yard, and the littler kids were running around playing tag.”
Wrapping her fingers delicately around my wrist, she nods with tears in her eyes. I look at Dolly over Autumn’s shoulder, giving her a shared smile that holds the somberness of that day, and a gratefulness for giving me some memories back. My throat feels dry, making swallowing too difficult, let alone speaking. I hand the photo back to her and give my own nod, which seems to be all I’m capable of right now.
She reaches over, wrapping her hand over the top of mine. “You brought such great comfort to our little Autumn that day. I never had a chance to thank you.” She holds my gaze, and adds, “Thank you, Brandon. I hope to see you around more often.”
“Daniel is due home soon and plans to be here for a week.”
“You don’t have to save up your visits for when he’s here.” Dolly rubs Autumn’s shoulder before walking to the living room. “You can stop by anytime.”
When I look at Autumn, the tears that hung heavily in the corners of her eyes have cleared, but they still glisten like glass over the surface, brightening those greens like summertime grass. She says, “You’re always welcome here.”
I look toward the front door and the large stained glass window beside it, running my hand through my hair, trying to think back. “I can’t seem to remember why I stayed away so long.”
Rubbing my back to pull my gaze back to her, she inhales a shuddering breath and raises her chin with a renewed certainty set in her stance. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
“Why am I here again?”
“I want to show you something.” She opens the door with her bag in hand. “Bye, Dolly.”
“Bye, dear!”
We step outside into the midday sunshine and gallop down the steps. Autumn drops her bag on the bottom step and says, “It’s out here.”
The water is still choppy, but the breeze blowing through keeps the temperature comfortable. Summer might be over, but we’re not fully committed to fall just yet. That could go for the woman as well. Though I’m working on it. I grin like a fool crossing the lawn as we head for the trees. “Do you know how valuable this property is now that the developers have started snapping up land all along the coastline?”
“Yes, and we’re never selling.”
The sun shines off her hair, and the breeze exposes the constellation of freckles across her neck again. I hadn’t realized until now that she’s not dressed for work. “No scrubs?” A pale-pink skirt hits mid-thigh, revealing a little color from summer, but I doubt she spends her days tanning like some of the women do at the docks. She’s trim and has some muscular definition, but is not a gym rat by any means. The tank top fits like a glove, showing off her great figure. Perky tits that aren’t too much for her frame and just enough for my hand, slender waist highlighted by white stripes of fabric going down the sides.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she smiles up at me. “What do you keep looking at?” Her cheeks are a perfect match to her outfit.
“You.”
She stops, dropping her mouth open, and stares at me. “You can’t just say ‘you,’ Brandon.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s just . . .” She looks out at the water as if she needs time for a better comeback. The pursing of her lips makes me think she didn’t think of one. “You have an entire ocean over there fighting for your attention, and you’re choosing to stare at me. How am I supposed to react to that?”