Цитаты из произведения A Long Time Coming

I scrub my hand down my face just as a light tapping comes from the other side of the wall. And just like that, a smile spreads across my face. Reaching up to the wall, I rap my knuckle four times. Like clockwork, she knocks three. Four knocks for four letters in love. Three knocks for three letters in you.

“What’s wrong with waiting a year?” I ask, respectively. “That will give us time to make sure everything is perfect.” “Brian’s niece will be far too tall to be the flower girl a year from now. You must think about the pictures, Ophelia.” Ah, yes, the pictures. Heaven forbid a tall flower girl show up and ruin everything.

“Want me to grab plates?” I ask. “Yeah, it would be nice if you made yourself useful.” “Just a simple yes would suffice,”

“What’s with the Cane brothers and their birds?” “Hey, JP likes pigeons because he feels guilty about them not being loved, but he couldn’t care less about other feathered friends.” “Please, for the love of God, don’t call them feathered friends.”

“Now, are you Catholic, Ophelia?” “Uh, that would be a no.” I itch the spot where the veil clip is digging into my scalp. The Beave’s brows crease. “I believe Brian told me you were.” I shake my head. “Nope, not a Catholic. I actually don’t really have a religion at all.” “How could you not have a religion?” she asks in…

Reluctantly and with heavy steps, I head over to the door, open it, and then lean on the edge, attempting to look like the epitome of a casual man NOT in love with his best friend. “Hey there, uh, how are you? Doing good? Wow, the heat today, am I right?”

I’m sorry it didn’t work out, though, I thought you were looking for that kind of relationship,” she says. “I was, but she wasn’t what I wanted.” “What do you want?” she asks. You. Everything about you. Your soul. Your mind. Your heart. Your body. I want all of you, every last fucking inch of you.

“Well, you should feel special. Because you are. I’ll hype you all day, every day.” “And that is why you are my best friend,” she says. Yeah, if only I was so much more.

“Okay.” I nod. “So what do I do now?” “Well, when I was spiraling, I decided to donate money to make me feel better,” JP says. “I know of a great pigeon rescue that could use another donor.” I look him dead in the eyes and say, “I’m not feeding into your pigeon obsession. You can fuck off with that.”

“If you puke on my shoes, I’ll murder you,” Huxley says. “Why did I have to come home? I don’t want to hear her having sex.” I rest my head on Huxley’s shoulder. “I bet she’s a sweet moaner.” “Can you not speak so closely to my face?” “I bet she has the best-tasting pussy ever, like . . . a fresh field of flowers.” “When…