Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Yes, Mommy,” Ada said obediently.
“Wanna go feed the duckies?”
“Duckies!” Ada chirped and I grinned at her.
“Then duckies we shall feed,” I said. I set her down on her feet and helped her into her Velcro sneakers. We packed a backpack with snacks and boxes of apple juice, then took a bag of seeds and grain that my father kept on hand for this very purpose.
“You know, Pop-pop used to take me and Uncle Toph to the park to feed the ducks all the time when we were growing up,” I said, reaching down to take Ada’s hand. We walked out of the apartment building and down the busy street, then over a few blocks until we were in the middle of the park.
“That was when Mommy learned that ducks don’t eat bread, it’s actually bad for them,” I said. “That’s why Pop-pop always has this on hand,” I added as I pulled the bag of seeds from my backpack.
Ada gave me a serious look. “Seeds,” she said, running her chubby hand over the plastic bag.
I nodded. The air in the park was fresh and crisp and the day was easily my favorite time of the year – fresh and crisp, summer on the verge of turning into fall. Boston was a few degrees cooler than New York and I was grateful for the almost chill in the air. Ada and I played at the park for hours, feeding the ducks and the geese together. I read her three storybooks and tried to help her along, feeling a slight pang of guilt that her primary educators had been my father and Dawning City.
It was such a nice, normal day that I almost forgot about Nico and how much space he’d been occupying in my thoughts as of late.
As the sun began to sink low in the sky, Ada grew sleepy and I packed up our books and the bag of seeds. I threw away the empty juice boxes and snack bags in the trash, then picked Ada up in my arms and headed back to my father’s apartment.
“I had fun today, Mommy,” Ada said sleepily into my neck and I smiled so widely that my cheeks hurt.
“I did too, baby,” I told her, planting a kiss on her head. “We’ll make sure to do this a lot more often, okay?”
Ada didn’t reply – she was already asleep, snoring quietly on my shoulder.
When we got back to my dad’s, I tucked Ada into the guest room with a mound of her stuffed bunnies and went into the kitchen where my father was fixing happy hour snacks – a platter of cheese and crackers and olives, with smoked herring and toast points.
“Dad, this looks amazing,” I said.
He gave me a one-armed hug – he was still slicing cornichons into small pieces – and grinned.
“What, you didn’t get your fill of animal crackers and apple juice?”
I snorted. “We had a nice time,” I said. “I forgot how much I missed spending quality time with her, one on one.” Another pang of guilt struck me and I smiled awkwardly. “It had been way too long.
My dad nodded. “She’s a great kid,” he said.
“It was like, a total decompression after the week I’ve had,” I continued. “Shit, after the month I’ve had at work.”
“Are you thinking about staying there?” Dad asked. “Or maybe finding another job that isn’t quite so demanding?”
I frowned. “That’s the thing,” I told him. “This job wasn’t supposed to be demanding. They advertised a work-life balance in the ad!”
My dad frowned. “Hon, you knew what you were signing up for,” he said, but his tone wasn’t reproachful. Rather, he sounded sympathetic and honestly, that just made me feel worse.
“I knew it was a new magazine,” I pointed out. “They told me it wouldn’t be anything like working for a startup.”
Dad raised an eyebrow. He put the knife that he’d been holding down in the sink and began rinsing off the cutting board. Sensing that he wasn’t going to make me a reply, I walked into the living room and looked out the large French doors at the setting sun. I couldn’t believe that summer was almost over: soon it would be getting cold, for real. I began making a mental list of everything I’d need to do to prepare for the cold weather. Ada had already grown out of her jacket and snow boots from the year before, and I had half a mind to try thrift stores for expensive winter clothing, at least until she stopped growing at the rate of a weed.
It occurred to me that if I were with Nico, truly with him, I’d never have to worry about money again. That idea alone would have been appealing to a lot of women, but I didn’t find it so – I didn’t like the idea of taking anything from him, even though he’d made it obvious how generous he was.