Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Unless you’re, like, a serial killer or something.”
“Yes. Granted.”
His grin made his eyes glow. “I agree that Tim’s problems are Tim’s problems, but I also know that Joe is a bully. He was always tripping us, and he always wanted to do the punching game where you’d hit him as hard as you could, and then he got to hit you back.”
“He punched you?”
“All the time when I was little. He never touched the girls, but both me and Michael—sometimes it was brutal.”
“And your father didn’t step in?”
“This was the seventies, yeah? I mean, boys were supposed to be tough and not cry, so you took it. You took all of it.”
I stepped forward, into him, and wrapped my arms around him.
He grunted and rubbed his cheek in my hair.
“I bet he hit Tim.”
“Oh, I bet he did too. He used to kick their dog until my mother put the pup on a leash one weekend when we were visiting and put him in the car when we left.”
“And Joe let her?” I asked into his chest.
“This is my mother.” Sam chuckled. “He wasn’t going to say a word to her.”
“So how did that work? I thought Michael was allergic.”
“He is. She gave the dog to our next-door neighbors, and they loved the hell out of him.”
“I like that story.” I sighed.
“I knew you would.”
“That’s impressive,” Hannah said, and when I leaned sideways to look around Sam, I saw that Jake had more exceptionally burned toast. “Really,” she placated him.
“Oh man,” Jake groaned.
“We should keep the cat,” I told my husband.
“No. Hannah’s giving the cat to George.”
“Why?” I asked, easing back to look up at his face.
“Because George is sad,” he deadpanned.
“Do I want to know?”
“I know, so you have to,” he assured me with a smirk, turning to look over at Hannah. “Tell your father why George is sad.”
“Pa,” she whined, looking utterly morose. “Cynthia broke up with him.”
I didn’t want to know. “Why?” I found myself inquiring anyway.
“She said he was gone too much.”
“What do you mean, ‘gone’?”
“You know, when he’s deployed.”
I looked at Sam. “I thought George wasn’t in the army anymore.”
“Reserves,” Sam clarified, walking over to the refrigerator, opening the door and peering inside. “Plus, when you’re Special Forces, they call you up for…you know…things.”
“Things?”
He made a noise. “It’s above my pay grade.”
“No it’s not.”
“So she broke up with him,” Hannah continued. “And now he’s alone, so I think after we make sure Bubs is all good with the shots and the deworming and a microchip, then he should live with George.”
“Why don’t we let George pay for the shots and the delousing––”
“Deworming,” Hannah corrected her father. “He doesn’t have lice.”
“Thank God for small favors.”
“And Kola and Jake gave him a bath.”
Sam squinted at his son. “It took two of you guys to bathe a kitten?”
“He’s squirmy,” Kola apprised his father. “And he bites.”
“And his claws are really sharp,” Jake expanded.
“Okay.” Sam shrugged and turned back to the refrigerator he was holding open and letting all the cold air out of. “Why is there nothing for dessert in here?”
“I could make brownies,” Kola suggested.
“You know, buddy,” Sam began, clearing his throat, “I think you’ve cooked enough for one day.”
“What?”
“Oh no, what did you make?” Harper asked from the kitchen table where he was setting up all the laptops for World of Warcraft.
“I made lasagna,” Kola told him.
Harper made a face.
“It was good this time.”
He nodded. “I’m sure it was.”
“It was,” Kola insisted.
“And I’m saying I believe you.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” Harper echoed, forcing a smile. “But uh, you didn’t, you know, double the cheese again, right?”
“Of course not,” Kola assured him, sounding terribly guilty.
“Because, you know, last time it got kind of hard, remember? Like, you really had to get in there and saw at it a bit,” Harper explained, making the sawing motion in case we missed the point.
“I don’t remember that at all.”
“I could make cream puffs,” Hannah chimed in.
“No, sweetie, you’re hurt. You should rest.”
“I’m a little sore, but I have the Percocet if it really hurts”––they gave her two at the hospital––“and ibuprofen if I get achy. I promise, the cramps I get when I have my period are worse than this.”
“Then yes, please,” Sam whimpered. “I would love some cream puffs.”
She laughed and put out her arms, and he went over and lifted her off the counter. And just like that, she was sobbing.
As her designated rock in every storm, he held her as she pressed her face into his chest and let it all out until she started to hiccup. The fact of the matter was, she had been scared, her adrenaline pounding, and then she had to be brave for the cops and for the doctor and nurses at the hospital. She would have broken down in front of me, but she also knew that I worried. Same with her brother and Jake. We all worried, probably too much. So she tended to try and be bulletproof for us. For my part, I was working on it, trying not to show her how concerned I was when she went out into the world.