Landon & Shay: Part Two (L&S Duet #2)(12)

“He saw me before I could run, so I ended up talking to him.”

“What did he want?”

My stomach flipped from remembering the conversation. “Money. He said he found himself in a tough spot and needed money to get by for food and stuff. I told him I was working a small campus job and couldn’t help him, but he insisted I ask my mom for money and say it was for me. He wanted me to be a liar like him.”

Landon blew out a breath of air. “What’s with our fathers being complete douchebags?”

“Well, we needed to have something in common,” I joked.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I wanted nothing to do with him, and he shouldn’t come back.”

“I’m proud of you,” he said. “I know that was probably hard for you.”

“A part of me wanted to hug him…why is that?”

“Because you’re human and understand that emotions are complex, but just because you feel a certain way doesn’t mean you have to invite said person back into your life.”

That was exactly what I needed to hear.

I rolled onto my side and kept the phone pressed to my ear. “So, what do you want me to say next, seeing how I don’t want to talk about my father anymore.”

“How about your screenplay?” he suggested. “I’d love to hear your words.”

I bit my bottom lip. “It’s not that great.”

“Bull crap. You said in your last letter it’s your favorite thing you’ve ever written.”

“I talk too much in those letters,” I joked.

“If you don’t want to share it, that’s fine.”

“No, I will. Nobody has read it yet, so if it sucks, please don’t tell me.” I laughed. “But I’m pretty sure after you listen to it for five minutes, you’ll be snoring in no time.”

“Doubtful.”

I grabbed my script, turned on the lamp beside my bed, and began reading. As the words rolled off my tongue, I fell more in love with the story I’d created. Every now and then, Landon would laugh at the dialogue, or say “Wow,” making me feel even better about my work.

I’d expected him to fall asleep pretty early on. I thought he’d be deep in sleep by act two, but he wasn’t. He was listening closely as if he fully enjoyed the read.

When I finished, he applauded through the phone, making my cheeks heat. “Did you really like it?”

“Are you kidding? I loved it. That script is just like the person who created it,” Landon said. “It’s a masterpiece.”

I chuckled. “You’re so corny it’s disturbing.”

“Very disturbing. Trust me, I creep myself out,” he agreed. “Are you tired?”

“No, not really…not after reading the script.”

“Good. So…can you read it again?”

I fell asleep reading him my words, and I couldn’t have imagined a better way to slip into my dreams.





“Carol is going through a divorce,” Mom remarked, speaking of her co-worker during our Sunday dinner.

Mima’s casserole sizzled as she set the pan down on the dining room table. Steam rose as my grandmother began using her slotted spoon to scoop into the dish. The aromas of perfectly cooked beef noodle casserole filled the space as my stomach grumbled in anticipation.

The three of us shared dinner every Sunday. During the week, we were all too busy to meet up. I was only able to get away from school on the weekends, Mima’s yoga studio was taking off and expanding to different locations, and Mom’s nursing schedule had been switched to night shifts. Sundays were the only time we were able to get together and catch up on life.

For the past few years, Mom’s catching us up on life had involved a bit of bitterness on her tongue.

She snarled as she told the story about Carol and her woes. “Can you believe the jerk slept with Carol’s sister?! Her sister! I tell you, men are pigs. They will do anything and everything to ruin a woman’s life. If I’d had any sense, I would’ve never dated in the first place.”

Mom and Dad’s—correction, Kurt’s, because he was no father of mine—divorce proceedings had been completed for a while, and needless to say, Mom had never recovered from her hatred of the man. Ever since Kurt’s betrayal of our family, Mom had turned into the leader of the WWLTHMC—Women Who Love to Hate Men Club.

With a premium membership, you received weekly chocolates, a Lifetime channel subscription, and a cat.

Sign me up ASAP—mainly for the chocolate, somewhat for the cat.

“It’s not all on the man, honey. The sister did have some part in the betrayal,” Mima added. “Plus, there’s probably more to the story that Carol is leaving out. We shouldn’t judge.”

My grandmother never waded into the world of judgment when it came to other people’s affairs. I assumed with age came experience, and with experience, one learned how not to judge others from the outside looking in.

Mom was too wrapped up in her own experience at the moment. She was having a hard time not being judgmental of others. I was learning that most of the people who were hurting, judged others’ lifestyles just to make themselves more comfortable with their own story.

At least Mom could say her husband hadn’t cheated on her with her nonexistent sister. I was certain Carol had her beat on that front.