Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I’m home. Did you need something?”
“I, uh…” His voice drifted.
“Remington?”
“I forget what the hell I called you for.”
“Oh.” I frowned. Remington wasn’t usually the forgetful sort. “What were you doing before you called?”
“I was…” he muttered something, and I gave him a moment to collect his thoughts.
I disliked seeing signs of aging in Remington, so I attributed his forgetfulness to simple busyness. The man had a ton of crap on his plate.
He growled in frustration. “Forget it. I’ll call you when I remember.”
The line went dead, and I sighed. I was used to his abrupt and rude phone etiquette, especially when he was preoccupied, so I didn’t think much of it.
I read a few more chapters from my supply chain management text and that put me right to sleep. A few hours later, I awoke hunched over my notes with back-breaking cramps just as Andrew walked in the door with Elara.
“Mommy!” she called, charging for me and hurling herself onto my lap.
“Umph! Hey, Peanut. How was your adventure?” Elara wasn’t in preschool yet, but Andrew kept her pretty busy. She had a full social schedule of playdates, museum tours, nanny circles, and fun kiddie adventures.
She held up her pudgy fist, showing off the smeared stamp on the back of her hand and frowned. “Uh-oh.”
I laughed. She was her father’s daughter. Knowing little blemishes like this stressed her out, I tried to celebrate it as a good thing. “How pretty! Did you go to the petting zoo?”
Moaning, she climbed off my lap and went to the kitchen, not distracted in the least from the horrific smudge on her hand. “Up!” she demanded, pointing to her stool by the sink.
“She’s been begging to wash it off all day,” Andrew commented, moving to help the little princess. “What do we say when we need help, Elara?”
“Pease,” she pleaded, leaving out the L.
I wasn’t sure if her OCD was an environmental trait she picked up from her neatnik father or something genetic. Maybe I should mention it to the pediatrician next week. And it wouldn’t hurt for Hale to curb his need for perfection around the little one.
Ha! Like that would ever happen.
I got up from the sofa and folded the lap blanket, setting my forgotten textbook and notes on the coffee table. “Andrew, next week I’m going to New York. Are you okay with that?”
“Hale’s here, right?”
“Yes. He’ll be back by then.” I typically tried to travel only when Hale was away, but this trip felt…necessary. I wasn’t sure why.
“Then that should be fine. I’ll put the dates in my calendar now.”
“Thanks, Andrew.”
He shut off the faucet and helped Elara dry her hands. “All better.”
I reached into the cup of pens by the phone and clicked a purple one open. “Oooh, look what I found.” Elara immediately looked at what I had. I drew a small heart on the back of my hand. “Pretty.”
She frowned and gasped. “Uh-oh, Mommy.” She tugged me toward the sink.
“No, I don’t want to wash it off. I like it.”
She whined as if this somehow broke the laws of nature, her tiny body helplessly tugging me toward the sink.
“Andrew, don’t you think it’s pretty?”
He lifted his head from the calendar he’d been marking and fawned over my heart. “Very pretty! Can I have one?”
I drew a star on his hand, and Elara screamed. We both looked at her in surprise and laughed.
“Elara, we don’t scream like that.”
She marched over to Andrew and pointed at his hand. “No!”
He cradled the scribbled star protectively to his chest. “I like my star.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she pouted in frustration, stomping her little foot angrily.
“Do you want one, Peanut?”
“No.” She pulled her pudgy fists protectively close and backed up.
“Okay. You don’t have to have one. But you can’t get mad at other people for wanting one.” My little anti-control lesson cut off as a sharp cramp plunged from my back, through my stomach, and into my legs.
I must have gasped because Andrew’s face instantly contorted with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Mmm. Yeah.” I grimaced, holding my side. “Just a little stomach issue.” Pain radiated through my back and Elara’s prior distress shifted to concern as she watched me double over and grip the counter.
“Can I get you something?” Andrew offered, but there wasn’t anything he could do. Cramps were cramps.
“Do you mind if I…” I gestured toward the steps, needing a few moments to myself.
“Go. I’ve got her. We were about to take a swim.”
I nodded my thanks and slowly lurched up the stairs. I needed my bed.
Later that night, after the red devil made its debut, I fed Elara dinner and put her to bed. Hale was working late and didn’t get in until around eight.
“You look cozy,” he said, joining me on the sofa.
“I’m not. I got my period.”
He brushed a loving hand over my head and peeked under the blanket, finding the usual suspects—a heating pad, a bag of truffles, and a box of tissues. He glanced at the screen where Dolly Parton’s face was frozen. “Steel Magnolias?”