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“Because I don’t want them telling anyone about my books. I want to be able to have my success because my writing is good. Not because I’m riding off the success of my already-known family members.”
“I can understand that. So how has it been working out for you?” she asks.
“It’s a tough market to break into, but I think they’re doing surprisingly well.”
“That’s awesome,” she says.
“Yeah, it’s fun. If you ever want to know more about the publishing process, I’m happy to teach you more about it. As long as we’re keeping it between the two of us.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” she says, zipping up her mouth. “How long have you been writing?”
“I started a few years ago. I was in Dubai and away from my family. And the words started to flow.”
“What kind of stuff do you write?” she asks.
“Crime thrillers.”
“Sounds interesting. Anything I might have heard of?”
“Possibly.”
I’m afraid she’s going to ask me what my penname is, so I quickly change the subject. I’m not ready to share my secret just yet.
Maybe one day, but that day isn’t here yet for me.
15
ARIANA
After getting dressed, I come down to the dining room for breakfast. The smell of bacon and waffles permeates the air, and my mouth waters.
Mrs. Keith is at the table with one of her knees propped up on an adjacent chair.
“Good morning. I’m surprised to see you out here,” I say to Mrs. Keith.
Kaison is sitting next to her, and he looks amazing in a black button-up shirt. “I tried to convince her to take her breakfast in bed, but she insisted on being out here.”
“I’m sick of being in there already,” she says.
“I guess it doesn’t matter where you are as long as you’re keeping your knee elevated,” Kaison says. “I’m just worried you might overdo it.”
“You don’t need to fuss over me,” she insists. “I can take care of myself.”
Lidia comes out with a platter full of waffles and another piled high with bacon.
“Everything looks delicious,” I say.
We say a prayer on the food and then start loading our plates.
“You know,” Mrs. Keith begins. “Kaison is so suave with the ladies nowadays, but it wasn’t always like that. You should have seen him in middle school.”
“Mom!” Kaison groans. “She loves to tell this story.”
“He had this one girl at church he had the biggest crush on. What was her name? Rachel? Rebecca?”
“Rochelle,” he says.
“Yes, Rochelle. That’s it. He had it bad for her. But he had no idea how to talk to her, so anytime she came around, he just froze up and couldn’t string two words together. You should have seen him back then. He had these little wire-rimmed glasses.”