Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83358 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“Oh good, you brought my furry grandson,” she says with genuine delight as she glances down. “Your father’s been worried he wouldn’t remember him.”
“He sees him every week.”
“Well, rabbits have small brains,” she says, as if this is scientific fact. “Like my cousin Belinda.”
“Buttermilk is smarter than most men I’ve dated,” I mutter, rising and dusting off my jeans. “Where’s everyone else?”
Mom tosses her head toward the hall that leads to the living room. “Oh, and just so you know,” she says casually, “don’t bring up Caleb’s new gym obsession. He thinks no one knows he hired a personal trainer named Svetlana, but your niece overheard him practicing how to say ‘protein macros’ in the mirror.”
I gasp, hand to chest like a scandalized Southern debutante. “Caleb’s got a gym crush? Shocking. I had no idea.”
I absolutely had every idea. Sadie spilled the beans last week while drawing Svetlana in crayon with massive muscles and very pointy eyelashes.
“What can I do to help?” I ask, knowing the answer already.
“Go away,” she says, kindly but not joking.
My mom rules the kitchen with an iron fist and doesn’t like people getting in her way.
I kiss her cheek. “I’m out of here.”
In the living room, my dad is cocked back in his recliner watching a hockey game. Dennis Shaw is a retired chemistry teacher and now volunteers at the Phipps Conservatory. He’s famous for quoting old movies and has serious but somewhat fragile lawn pride.
Buttermilk hopping in catches his attention and he immediately leans over the chair, holding out his hand. “There’s my favorite grandrabbit. Come here, Buttermilk. Who’s your favorite grandpa?”
My father isn’t given the time of day as Buttermilk instead hops over to my niece, who happens to be my favorite person in the world.
Sadie sits cross-legged on the floor and Buttermilk beelines to her. I swear to God, the rabbit’s facial expression changes to one of pure adoration and he snuggles into her side.
I squash the twinge of jealousy and tousle her hair as I walk by to give my dad a kiss on the cheek. “Who’s playing?” I ask.
“The Arizona Vengeance and the Vancouver Flash,” Eli says from the couch where he has a bottle of craft beer perched on his thigh.
Eli is the oldest Shaw sibling at thirty-eight, which makes him eleven years older than me. He’s a firefighter and still single… well past the age of mother hounding him constantly for grandkids. I smack his leg as I walk by and plop down on the cushion right between him and my other brother, Caleb, who is the middle child and eight years older than me.
Caleb is Sadie’s father and freshly divorced from a very sweet woman who we all still love. In fact, I think Caleb still loves Sadie’s mom, but they grew apart romantically and knew it was time to call it quits. They’re still good friends and co-parent Sadie.
Caleb is the district manager for a grocery chain and has the driest humor of anyone I’ve ever met. He’s also radically overprotective of me, to the point he’s a little scary.
“How’s the dating circus?” he asks, nudging me in the ribs. His tone is curious with a subtle whiff of threat.
“Crazy,” I reply truthfully, grabbing the beer out of Eli’s hand who gives it up without a fight. I take a sip and hand it back. “But educational.”
“She posted another TikTok,” Sadie announces without looking up.
My mouth drops open as I turn to my brother. “You don’t let her watch TikTok, do you? That shit will warp her brain, and besides that… there’s inappropriate stuff on there.”
Caleb hushes me. “Watch your language.”
“Yeah… shit is a bad word,” Sadie says proudly.
My dad pats her on the head. “Yes, it is. Only use it if things are really bad.”
I snort and Caleb glares at our father before turning back to me. “No, I don’t let her watch TikTok except your videos, which she does with me. She’s getting the most honest relationship advice she’ll ever hear from you.”
“Aww,” I say, resting my head on his shoulder. “That’s so sweet.”
Caleb shrugs hard to dislodge me. “Don’t let it go to your deranged head.”
Mom peeks around the corner. “Dinner is served.”
We all get up, Eli, Caleb and I shoving each other to get in there first because the first one in always scores the coveted corner slice of garlic bread—the one soaked in butter and slightly burnt on the edge. We always fight over it like it’s the last life raft on the Titanic.
Caleb elbows Eli in the ribs, Eli steps on my foot, and I end up wedged between both of them yelling, “If I don’t get that bread, I’m telling everyone about Svetlana!”
Eli barks out a laugh.
Caleb stares at me with wide eyes. “Why would you say that? What do you know?”