Read Online Finding Home by Megan Nugen Isbell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Megan Nugen Isbell
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you’ll let me.”
I didn’t say anything. I just walked into the kitchen as Brandon followed.
“Holy shit, it’s hot in here!” he exclaimed.
“If it’s too hot for you to handle, you’re welcome to go home.”
“I can handle it,” he said with a smirk and then I saw him staring at me. His eyes were chest level and I couldn’t tell if he was looking at my boobs or the apron. “That’s a killer apron. Got one for me?”
“No, I don’t,” I said, continuing to scoop the cookies onto the baking sheet.
“Where’d you get that thing anyway? You look like an old lady,” he chuckled and I just glared at him.
“It was my grandma’s. She’s dead,” I said flatly and I saw his smile turn into a straight line.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m just batting a thousand with you lately.”
I just ignored him and finished prepping the cookies for baking before pulling out the previous batch of sugar cookies from the oven and putting the sheet of double chocolate chip in.
“Can you make yourself useful and put those on the cooling rack?” I asked, gesturing to the sugar cookies.
“Sure,” he said, taking the spatula and getting to work. “These look really good. Can I have one?”
“No,” I answered quickly and I saw him roll his eyes a little. I didn’t react. I just started washing out the mixing bowl I’d just finished using.
“Mandy,” Brandon said after a few minutes of silence. “I feel really badly about what Jesse and I did to you yesterday.”
I didn’t say anything at first. I just finished drying the bowl I’d just washed and turned to face him. He’d finished putting the cookies on the rack for me and was now leaning against the counter, looking at me with frustration. His light brown hair was growing out and he didn’t look as much like a soldier as he had when he’d first returned to Carver. The waves at the end of his hair were touching the tops of his ears and he had a light shadow on his face, obviously having not shaved in the morning. He was wearing a blue t-shirt that seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes even more and his lose jeans completely hid the fact he’d lost a leg in Afghanistan. I wondered if he should sit down. He’d been standing the whole time and I was afraid he was in pain.
“I told you just to drop it. It’s over with,” I said, walking back over to the counter so we were only a couple of feet apart.
“I can tell you’re still bothered by it though. It was just a joke and I’m sorry.”
“I know it was supposed to be a joke, Brandon, but…it wasn’t funny to me,” I said, and I didn’t realize how quiet I was being until the words left my mouth. I looked down at the counter and started tracing designs in the flour for a second before looking back up at him.
“I know and I’m sorry.”
“It’s just…” I stammered, thinking about what I wanted to say to him. “All I want is for everyone to be happy. I feel like I’m always trying to make that happen.”
“And you do a very good job at that,” he interrupted.
“But…I feel like…I feel like none of you respect me,” I said softly.
“Of course we respect you.”
“It doesn’t feel like it to me. You guys are always pointing out how ditzy I am and rolling your eyes at me if I don’t get the joke right away. I get it. I’m an airhead, but I don’t think that should make me a target.”
“You’re not a target, Mandy.”
“I’m not?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. “So, you’re telling me you would’ve done that to Riley or Laura or Holly?”
He didn’t say anything and as his eyes lowered to the counter, I knew he saw my point.
“I guess you’re right,” he said, looking up at me again.
“I know I probably overreacted, but it hurts, okay?”
He stood there for a moment, but then I saw him moving along the counter, closing the space between us until he was right next to me and we were standing
I didn’t say anything. I just walked into the kitchen as Brandon followed.
“Holy shit, it’s hot in here!” he exclaimed.
“If it’s too hot for you to handle, you’re welcome to go home.”
“I can handle it,” he said with a smirk and then I saw him staring at me. His eyes were chest level and I couldn’t tell if he was looking at my boobs or the apron. “That’s a killer apron. Got one for me?”
“No, I don’t,” I said, continuing to scoop the cookies onto the baking sheet.
“Where’d you get that thing anyway? You look like an old lady,” he chuckled and I just glared at him.
“It was my grandma’s. She’s dead,” I said flatly and I saw his smile turn into a straight line.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m just batting a thousand with you lately.”
I just ignored him and finished prepping the cookies for baking before pulling out the previous batch of sugar cookies from the oven and putting the sheet of double chocolate chip in.
“Can you make yourself useful and put those on the cooling rack?” I asked, gesturing to the sugar cookies.
“Sure,” he said, taking the spatula and getting to work. “These look really good. Can I have one?”
“No,” I answered quickly and I saw him roll his eyes a little. I didn’t react. I just started washing out the mixing bowl I’d just finished using.
“Mandy,” Brandon said after a few minutes of silence. “I feel really badly about what Jesse and I did to you yesterday.”
I didn’t say anything at first. I just finished drying the bowl I’d just washed and turned to face him. He’d finished putting the cookies on the rack for me and was now leaning against the counter, looking at me with frustration. His light brown hair was growing out and he didn’t look as much like a soldier as he had when he’d first returned to Carver. The waves at the end of his hair were touching the tops of his ears and he had a light shadow on his face, obviously having not shaved in the morning. He was wearing a blue t-shirt that seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes even more and his lose jeans completely hid the fact he’d lost a leg in Afghanistan. I wondered if he should sit down. He’d been standing the whole time and I was afraid he was in pain.
“I told you just to drop it. It’s over with,” I said, walking back over to the counter so we were only a couple of feet apart.
“I can tell you’re still bothered by it though. It was just a joke and I’m sorry.”
“I know it was supposed to be a joke, Brandon, but…it wasn’t funny to me,” I said, and I didn’t realize how quiet I was being until the words left my mouth. I looked down at the counter and started tracing designs in the flour for a second before looking back up at him.
“I know and I’m sorry.”
“It’s just…” I stammered, thinking about what I wanted to say to him. “All I want is for everyone to be happy. I feel like I’m always trying to make that happen.”
“And you do a very good job at that,” he interrupted.
“But…I feel like…I feel like none of you respect me,” I said softly.
“Of course we respect you.”
“It doesn’t feel like it to me. You guys are always pointing out how ditzy I am and rolling your eyes at me if I don’t get the joke right away. I get it. I’m an airhead, but I don’t think that should make me a target.”
“You’re not a target, Mandy.”
“I’m not?” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. “So, you’re telling me you would’ve done that to Riley or Laura or Holly?”
He didn’t say anything and as his eyes lowered to the counter, I knew he saw my point.
“I guess you’re right,” he said, looking up at me again.
“I know I probably overreacted, but it hurts, okay?”
He stood there for a moment, but then I saw him moving along the counter, closing the space between us until he was right next to me and we were standing
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