Coming Apart at the Seams Read Online Free PDF

speak without worrying that millions of people were going to hear him sound like an idiot.
    That was why he turned down interviews and said no to endorsement deals that would require him to speak, regardless of the millions of dollars he would make. And he had to be careful the people he hired wouldn’t turn around and sell somesalacious story to the media. He could see the headline now: P-P-P-POOR PRIEST CAN’T SPEAK.
    He wasn’t the only NFL player who had a speech impediment. Darren Sproles, a running back with the Philadelphia Eagles, served as a spokesperson for the Stuttering Foundation, a national nonprofit. But his stutter wasn’t nearly as bad as Nick’s.
    Just then, the doorbell rang, and Nick made his way across the shiny hardwood floors to the door. As he opened it, he automatically shifted his gaze downward, expecting the personal chef to be shorter than he was.
    Surprisingly, he was almost eye to eye with the older woman in front of him. Her stick-thin body was clad in baggy black-and-white-checked pants and a red smock with “Chef Letty” embroidered on it.
    He looked down, half expecting to see heels, although that would have looked pretty weird with her chef outfit. But no, her big feet were covered in those ugly clog shoes that doctors and nurses favored, so that meant she was probably a couple of inches over six feet.
    Smiling, she held out her hand. She had big teeth to go with her big feet. Her blue eyes were bright, and her silver hair was styled in a modified crew cut.
    â€œLetty Andrews,” she said with a heavy Boston accent.
    Nick shook her hand, and as usual, he didn’t bother to introduce himself. Letty’s gray eyebrows rose at his silence, probably in disapproval. He knew people thought he was rude, but if he didn’t have to talk, he wasn’t going to.
    He gestured for her to come in, and she reached into the hallway to grab the handle of a rolling suitcase. He eyed it with trepidation.
    Is she planning to move in? I haven’t even hired her yet.
    Letty sailed through the door ahead of him, and he got a whiff of something spicy. Saliva burst in his mouth, and he swore his teeth elongated at the thought of eating whatever smelled so good. He laughed under his breath, imagining himself as a vampire scenting fresh blood, and Letty turned to look at him, a curious expression on her face.
    Ignoring her unspoken question, he led her to the kitchenand pointed to one of the chairs surrounding the rectangular wood table. “Ha . . .” He stopped and cleared his throat, a trick he used to hide his stutter. “Have a seat.”
    Tilting her head toward him, she gave him an assessing glance before pulling the suitcase toward the table. As she leaned down and grabbed the tab of the zipper, he noticed it opened from the top.
    â€œIt’s a rolling insulated bag, not a suitcase,” she explained, clearly reading his mind.
    The moment she flipped open the top, the spicy smell he’d noticed earlier poured from the bag. He dropped into the chair closest to it, almost drooling.
    Letty pulled a red cloth placemat from the bag along with a white china plate and a set of silverware wrapped in a white cloth napkin before arranging everything in front of him. As she removed a small bud vase with a white daisy from the bag and placed it on the table, she slanted an amused glance toward him.
    â€œYou can’t enjoy a meal without a nice table setting.”
    Nick barely heard her because his eyes were fixed on the bag, eager to see what delights she’d brought. Taking several aluminum containers from the bag, she deposited them on the table in front of him. She popped the tops off the containers, and pointing to each dish, she described the food within.
    â€œRoasted chicken with asiago polenta. Crab cakes with spicy rémoulade. Pan-seared flank steak with mushroom sauce. Sautéed shrimp with wasabi cream. Poblano mac and cheese.