song to go along with it, and I'd say
you've got Claire's music box."
"That's easy, 'You
Are My Sunshine.'"
"Perfect." Mr.
Collins flipped through the pages. When he stopped, he turned the book around
and pointed. "Right there."
I worked a little while
longer before heading back to my room. I decided to reply to Claire.
Dear Claire,
I don't get a lot of exercise,
unless you count lifting weights. I can't imagine running very far, but like
anything else, I guess you have to ease into it.
I had your name put on
the list of allowed visitors. They said on account my time here is short,
they'd allow you to visit. Technically, you're supposed to be a relative in
order to visit an inmate. I thought about telling them you're my sister, but
they know my only living relative besides Brogan is Uncle Jeb.
I hope you won't be
too disappointed when you meet me in person. I'll probably be so tongue-tied I
won't know what to say, and I'll wind up embarrassing myself.
If your daddy asks you
where you're going that day, I hope you don't lie to him. Is it lying if you don't
volunteer all the facts?
You sound like you're
stubborn. My mama always used to tell us, don't cut off your nose to spite your
face, or something like that. As a little boy, I wasn't sure what it meant, and
now that I'm older, I'm not a hundred percent, but I think I grasp the general
meaning. So, Claire, don't cut off your nose to spite your lovely face. J
No, I don't have a
calendar on the wall to mark off the days. It's all up in my head. Trust me,
I'm not likely to lose track of the days left.
What's a bucket list?
There are all sorts of
stories about Devil's Fork Lake. "The lake, it is said, never gives up her
dead." That's a legend about Lake Superior, but did you know that when
they flooded the land to build the lake, they wiped out a whole town, and
there's even a cemetery down there. Uncle Jeb used to tell us all kinds of
stories that scared the crap out of me as a kid.
I worked on your music
box today. I'm going to let it be a surprise. I hope you like it.
Now that you've made
up your mind about what tattoo to get, you just have to figure out where to put
it. I won't think about that too hard, because my imagination might get away
from me, and everyone will wonder what the heck I'm blushing about.
See you soon,
Braden
Having her come for a visit made me nervous.
Sometimes, I thought it would be better if we never met. If we were just long
distance friends. There's a certain illusion that comes with never meeting
someone face to face. You get to know them through writing, and even with
physical descriptions, it's difficult to put a face with the handwriting.
She didn't know what I looked like. The only
pictures out there of me where from a time before I wound up in this place. If
you looked real hard at the seventeen year old I am now, you might find that
twelve-year-old boy inside, but I doubted it. He was gentle, he was kind, and
he was naïve. I'm a decent person, but it's been hard not to become jaded and
bitter after spending so much time locked up.
Maybe after Claire meets me, she won't like me
very much.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Claire
Copeland
Alistair and I had a pretty heated exchange on the
drive over to the party. I told him I wasn't staying out all night, and he got
nosy and started asking questions. I told him I had to get up early to go running
around the lake with Olivia before church.
"Go running after church." He shot me an
irritated look, as though my wanting to get home at a decent hour would ruin
his entire night.
"I have plans after church," I said,
bracing myself for the next question he was bound to ask.
"What plans?"
Not that it was any of his business, but I didn't
like his attitude. "I'm going with Jeb Sayer to visit his nephew." I
didn't figure Alistair would remember Jeb Sayer's nephew was locked up in
juvie.
His head snapped in my direction and he narrowed
his eyes. "You're going to visit the Sayer Slayers? What
you've got Claire's music box."
"That's easy, 'You
Are My Sunshine.'"
"Perfect." Mr.
Collins flipped through the pages. When he stopped, he turned the book around
and pointed. "Right there."
I worked a little while
longer before heading back to my room. I decided to reply to Claire.
Dear Claire,
I don't get a lot of exercise,
unless you count lifting weights. I can't imagine running very far, but like
anything else, I guess you have to ease into it.
I had your name put on
the list of allowed visitors. They said on account my time here is short,
they'd allow you to visit. Technically, you're supposed to be a relative in
order to visit an inmate. I thought about telling them you're my sister, but
they know my only living relative besides Brogan is Uncle Jeb.
I hope you won't be
too disappointed when you meet me in person. I'll probably be so tongue-tied I
won't know what to say, and I'll wind up embarrassing myself.
If your daddy asks you
where you're going that day, I hope you don't lie to him. Is it lying if you don't
volunteer all the facts?
You sound like you're
stubborn. My mama always used to tell us, don't cut off your nose to spite your
face, or something like that. As a little boy, I wasn't sure what it meant, and
now that I'm older, I'm not a hundred percent, but I think I grasp the general
meaning. So, Claire, don't cut off your nose to spite your lovely face. J
No, I don't have a
calendar on the wall to mark off the days. It's all up in my head. Trust me,
I'm not likely to lose track of the days left.
What's a bucket list?
There are all sorts of
stories about Devil's Fork Lake. "The lake, it is said, never gives up her
dead." That's a legend about Lake Superior, but did you know that when
they flooded the land to build the lake, they wiped out a whole town, and
there's even a cemetery down there. Uncle Jeb used to tell us all kinds of
stories that scared the crap out of me as a kid.
I worked on your music
box today. I'm going to let it be a surprise. I hope you like it.
Now that you've made
up your mind about what tattoo to get, you just have to figure out where to put
it. I won't think about that too hard, because my imagination might get away
from me, and everyone will wonder what the heck I'm blushing about.
See you soon,
Braden
Having her come for a visit made me nervous.
Sometimes, I thought it would be better if we never met. If we were just long
distance friends. There's a certain illusion that comes with never meeting
someone face to face. You get to know them through writing, and even with
physical descriptions, it's difficult to put a face with the handwriting.
She didn't know what I looked like. The only
pictures out there of me where from a time before I wound up in this place. If
you looked real hard at the seventeen year old I am now, you might find that
twelve-year-old boy inside, but I doubted it. He was gentle, he was kind, and
he was naïve. I'm a decent person, but it's been hard not to become jaded and
bitter after spending so much time locked up.
Maybe after Claire meets me, she won't like me
very much.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Claire
Copeland
Alistair and I had a pretty heated exchange on the
drive over to the party. I told him I wasn't staying out all night, and he got
nosy and started asking questions. I told him I had to get up early to go running
around the lake with Olivia before church.
"Go running after church." He shot me an
irritated look, as though my wanting to get home at a decent hour would ruin
his entire night.
"I have plans after church," I said,
bracing myself for the next question he was bound to ask.
"What plans?"
Not that it was any of his business, but I didn't
like his attitude. "I'm going with Jeb Sayer to visit his nephew." I
didn't figure Alistair would remember Jeb Sayer's nephew was locked up in
juvie.
His head snapped in my direction and he narrowed
his eyes. "You're going to visit the Sayer Slayers? What
Similar Books
