She’s in book club with Opal.
The traitor.
Maisey smirks, and I don’t know if it’s at my visible surprise or if it’s sheer evil joy at knowing how to get under my skin.
Either way, this feelsnormalfor us.
And not a forced normal.
Just regular ole normal.
“It might be a little different than a normal porn collection,” I mutter.
“LikeBring in a truck of dirt and bury it all before Junie gets homeworse? Or likeDon’t drop a match in because it’ll cause a massive explosionworse?”
Neither. Exactly. “Both.”
Her forehead wrinkles again. “Theoretically, if everything was removed from this root cellar, would it be salvageable as an actual storage unit?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ten minutes. Coffee. And then we’re going to find out.”
“Maisey—”
“In case you were unaware, which would probably be willful negligence on your part by now, I’ve spent close to the last two decades of my life letting a man tell me what to do for his benefit. I’m uninterested in continuing my life that way. Ten minutes. Coffee. And then we’re going to find out. Understood?”
Hell if bossy, evil Maisey isn’t more attractive than sleepy, yawning Maisey, which is even more attractive thancherry crisp delivering in a dressMaisey.
Apologizing was a bad idea.
Telling her why I don’t date was a bad idea.
But both were also completely and totally necessary.
Tony did a lot of good for a lot of people while never asking for much for himself.
Pretty sure he would’ve wanted me to take care of this.
Chapter 14
Maisey
There is no amount of coffee, sleep, or sanity in the world that could have prepared me for Uncle Tony’s root cellar.
And I’m irrationally angry at the level of trust that I don’t have in Flint that made it necessary for me to come down here with him, and equally angry that hearing just a tiny bit more of his life story makes me want to wrap him in a hug and fix everything for him.
I keep telling Junie that people can be really great at one thing and bad at another.
Flint is good at being a teacher, but he’s terrible at being—well, whatever it is that he feels like he needs to be to me.
But the very, very,veryworst part?
If I’m reading between the lines right and piecing together the puzzle of him with even the slightest bit of accuracy, his parents broke him to the point that he had to move in with Opal when he was roughly Junie’s age.
The thought of my own daughter feeling so desperate and unloved that she needs to live with someone else makes my heart crack in two.
Poker face, Maisey. Poker face.
