Read Online All the Waters of the Earth (Giving You ... #3) by Leslie McAdam - Free Book Online
Authors: Leslie McAdam
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think the creative process is amazing. Something from nothing. Without me, my fifteen novels would not exist. And there is something to be said about allowing the creation to come into existence. Kind of like having a kid.”
I didn’t know if I should talk about kids with Jake or not. I’d no idea what he thought about them. I was scared to ask him if he wanted any. Two reasons. I didn’t want him to reject my son, for one. But also, deep down, I wanted more. I loved being a mom. I did it the tough way the first time around, but I’d be willing to do it again. For love this time.
A lawyer once told me that you should never ask a question that you don’t want to know the answer to. I didn’t want to know the answer to that one, not yet, not while things were so new, so I stayed quiet.
“What do you write about?” He nudged his nose in the space between my ear and my shoulder blade and kissed my back.
“Romance.” He pulled his face away and turned me to look at him.
“Real life isn’t romantic.”
I flopped over all the way, fully facing him, and looked at him, perplexed, upset, and concerned. “How can you say that? We just had the most romantic date. There’s plenty of romance in our lives.”
He smiled his sad smile and kissed my nose. “I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“I know. Taking today off means tomorrow is gonna be painful. And it means I have to work and won’t see you.”
God, why? He didn’t seem to hurt for money. “Why do you do that?” I asked, burrowing under his chin.
“What are your parents like?” he asked against the top of my head, not answering my question, running his finger up and down my arm.
Why didn’t he want to talk about it?
Still, I answered. “They’re great. My mom’s a clerk at Ralph’s grocery. My dad’s a mechanic. I have a sister, Celia who lives in Los Angeles and a brother, Gabriel, who lives in Dallas. What about you? Your parents? Any siblings?”
Jake stiffened and stopped the travel of his finger. Then he let out a breath. “My little brother Ethan died when I was fifteen.”
“Oh no,” I breathed.
“He was in a car accident. He was twelve.” Rob’s age. “My mom left my dad because of it. After that, I never saw my dad because he worked all the time. So I became a latchkey kid. My teenage years sucked. I went to school and got out of the house as fast as I could. And I learned to work. I learned to spend all of my time doing what it was I went to school to do. Because it can all be taken away and you have to work hard to keep it.”
What? No. Was I lucky because my work was my passion and it came easily? I put my hand on my hip. “That’s not true. The things that you are supposed to do come easy.”
“That’s not been my experience. I have never been allowed to do the easy things. I’ve had to do the hard things.”
Oh, Jake. “Who took care of you after your brother died? After your mom abandoned you?”
“Don’t say abandoned.” He didn’t seemed pissed, but he was defensive.
“Well, she did, didn’t she? And your dad escaped by working his ass off?”
Jake didn’t answer. Finally, after a pause, he said, “We do what we have to do to get by.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I couldn’t imagine not having the support of my family and friends. They were my community. “What did you do when you were in high school? Who was there for you ?”
“No one.”
I wanted to keep asking, to keep pushing him on this. But something made me pull back. I believed that I got more out of him than he gave anyone else and I wanted to tread cautiously. Here was this dreamboat guy who was so artistic and romantic. And he seemed so unhappy with what he was doing every day. He went about it automatically, like he was forced to do it. Like he didn’t know that he had a choice in life. That he could do whatever he wanted.
And why
I didn’t know if I should talk about kids with Jake or not. I’d no idea what he thought about them. I was scared to ask him if he wanted any. Two reasons. I didn’t want him to reject my son, for one. But also, deep down, I wanted more. I loved being a mom. I did it the tough way the first time around, but I’d be willing to do it again. For love this time.
A lawyer once told me that you should never ask a question that you don’t want to know the answer to. I didn’t want to know the answer to that one, not yet, not while things were so new, so I stayed quiet.
“What do you write about?” He nudged his nose in the space between my ear and my shoulder blade and kissed my back.
“Romance.” He pulled his face away and turned me to look at him.
“Real life isn’t romantic.”
I flopped over all the way, fully facing him, and looked at him, perplexed, upset, and concerned. “How can you say that? We just had the most romantic date. There’s plenty of romance in our lives.”
He smiled his sad smile and kissed my nose. “I have to go back to work tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday.”
“I know. Taking today off means tomorrow is gonna be painful. And it means I have to work and won’t see you.”
God, why? He didn’t seem to hurt for money. “Why do you do that?” I asked, burrowing under his chin.
“What are your parents like?” he asked against the top of my head, not answering my question, running his finger up and down my arm.
Why didn’t he want to talk about it?
Still, I answered. “They’re great. My mom’s a clerk at Ralph’s grocery. My dad’s a mechanic. I have a sister, Celia who lives in Los Angeles and a brother, Gabriel, who lives in Dallas. What about you? Your parents? Any siblings?”
Jake stiffened and stopped the travel of his finger. Then he let out a breath. “My little brother Ethan died when I was fifteen.”
“Oh no,” I breathed.
“He was in a car accident. He was twelve.” Rob’s age. “My mom left my dad because of it. After that, I never saw my dad because he worked all the time. So I became a latchkey kid. My teenage years sucked. I went to school and got out of the house as fast as I could. And I learned to work. I learned to spend all of my time doing what it was I went to school to do. Because it can all be taken away and you have to work hard to keep it.”
What? No. Was I lucky because my work was my passion and it came easily? I put my hand on my hip. “That’s not true. The things that you are supposed to do come easy.”
“That’s not been my experience. I have never been allowed to do the easy things. I’ve had to do the hard things.”
Oh, Jake. “Who took care of you after your brother died? After your mom abandoned you?”
“Don’t say abandoned.” He didn’t seemed pissed, but he was defensive.
“Well, she did, didn’t she? And your dad escaped by working his ass off?”
Jake didn’t answer. Finally, after a pause, he said, “We do what we have to do to get by.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that, but I couldn’t imagine not having the support of my family and friends. They were my community. “What did you do when you were in high school? Who was there for you ?”
“No one.”
I wanted to keep asking, to keep pushing him on this. But something made me pull back. I believed that I got more out of him than he gave anyone else and I wanted to tread cautiously. Here was this dreamboat guy who was so artistic and romantic. And he seemed so unhappy with what he was doing every day. He went about it automatically, like he was forced to do it. Like he didn’t know that he had a choice in life. That he could do whatever he wanted.
And why
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