Page 3 of Slow Burn
That's where the similarities stopped, though. Unlike me, Jennah had her act together. She was raising my nephew on her own and doing a damn good job at it too. Her bookkeeping skills were the best. And she had yet to disappoint my parents in any way.
Pushing those thoughts away, I forced a smile to my lips and said, "Frankie brought her trunk of drunk over yesterday." There wasn't a person in Clearwater Bay who didn't know about Frankie's trunk of drunk. Creating delicious boozy drinks was her passion. Well, that and baking.
So much so that her bakery, Sugar Booger, was known for its decadent alcoholic cupcakes two towns over.
Jennah made a noise and pulled on the door. "Come on, let's get some coffee in you."
Eager to get out of the sun, I rushed past her, giving her a grateful smile as I did. She smiled back but something was off. She looked almost sad.
"Is Tommy okay?" I asked over my shoulder.
I could only see her brow pull together before I had to focus on where I was going. I didn't want to accidentally walk into one of the shelves and have a hammer or screwdriver fall on my toes.
"He thinks his life sucks and that I am the worst mom for making him eat his vegetables. So, just another normal day. Why?"
I shook my head and immediately regretted it. "You look…off. Areyouokay?"
A warm hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed. "I'm just tired. The only one who is not okay here is you and that head of yours." The hairs at my nape stood on end. My sister was lying to me and I didn't like it. Unfortunately, my brain hurt too much for me to even attempt to get to the bottom of it.
Focusing on the delicious coffee smell coming from the small kitchen at the back of the store, I made a mental note to ask her about it later. Way later, when the little guy pounding his hammer against my skull went to sleep.
As I knew we would, we found our mom sitting at the little table; sipping her tea and doing her crossword.
"Don't talk too loud, Maddie has a hangover," Jennah cheerily announced.
Mom looked up; her dark brown eyes boring into me from over the rim of her glasses. She didn't have to say a single word. I felt the weight of her disapproval all the way to the soles of my feet.
Shrugging, I muttered the same words I'd said to Jennah. "Frankie came over."
When my mom dragged her glasses off her nose and set them on the table with a sigh, I wanted to turn around and run until my legs couldn't carry me anymore.
"Madison, you know better than that. It's irresponsible."
Working my jaw, I thought of the view from my backyard. Of how I got to dance my heart out on that beach every single morning without judgement. I thought long and hard about that before I answered my mother. Because if I didn't, no one would've liked the words that wanted out.
"It won't affect my work." Turning my gaze to my sister who was looking like she regretted opening her mouth, I said, "I won't be needing that coffee." Without another word, I hurried to the front of the store and took my place behind the counter.
A few minutes later, my sister pushed a steaming mug of caffeine in front of me and simply said, "Sorry", before she stalked off to her office to make sure Dad's books where in tiptop shape.
Fun times.
The morning dragged on and my mood simply went from bad to worse. I needed a distraction from the mess that was my life. Staring out the window at our picturesque little town, an image of Mr. Personality and his very fine ass popped into my head.
Needing the escape, I gave my imagination free reign. I thought back to his ink-covered sculpted arm and big, manly hands. They had to be big if he could hold the wood in place so effortlessly.
I bet his palms were rough and would probably have goosebumps popping up all over as it scraped along my skin. Or when it fisted my hair. Or—
Oh, good heavens. Here I was daydreaming about a man I hadn't even seen yet. A very unpleasant man. Was that what my life had come to? Working in my dad's hardware store because I couldn't cut it in New York and fantasizing about a faceless man because the only action I got was from a battery-operated device that lived in my bedside drawer.
I couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or just sad.
"Good morning, dearie."
Snapping out of my wallowing, I found Mrs. Christi standing on the other side of the counter. Her smile was warm and friendly as she pushed a shower head and a few hooks toward me.
"Morning, Mrs. Christi." I started scanning the items and placed them in a bag. "Did you have a good weekend?"
Her entire face lit up. "Oh, yes. We visited Sharon in the city, and she took us to the new firm she's working at." Clasping her hands in front of her chest, she let out a little sigh. "It was so fancy. They offered us champagne and tiny morsels of food that looked too pretty too eat."
