Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Like Mike and Mike?” Hunter asks, referring to his favorite show on ESPN that was canceled a couple years back.
“Yeah, kind of,” Landon says. “But I won’t have to go in every day. I’ll pretty much show up and talk baseball on the different shows whenever they want me to, giving my opinion.”
“If I don’t make it into the Majors, that’s what I’d want to do,” Hunters says. “Getting to talk baseball every day… that’s the life.”
Landon nods and laughs. “Yeah, you can go to college for broadcasting.”
“So, you’re living here for good?” I ask. He mentioned he was here to spend time with his brother and his family, but he never said if he was actually living here for good.
“Would that be okay with you?” he asks, turning the tables on me.
“Of course it is. I just assumed you’d eventually go back to Boston since that’s where your life is.”
Landon chuckles softly. “Actually, my life’s right here.” The way he says it, I want to believe he’s referring to us, but I’m afraid to ask. It’s too soon to be having that deep of a conversation, right? So instead, like the chicken I am, I change the subject.
“Hey, Hunter, your birthday’s coming up. What kind of party do you want?”
Hunter groans. “C’mon, Mom, I’m turning thirteen. Teenagers don’t have parties.”
Dear Lord, please make him stop growing up…
“Then what do they do to celebrate?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs.
“Well, we have to do something.” I’m nowhere near ready for him to stop acknowledging his birthday.
“I guess I could have my friends over and we can hang out,” he suggests, not realizing he’s breaking my heart. Moms live for celebrating the holidays with their kids, and that includes birthdays. He needs to go back to being eight and wanting a Harry Potter birthday party.
“Hang out?” I clarify. “That’s hardly a celebration.”
“I’m not a baby anymore,” Hunter points out.
“I have an idea,” Landon says. “How about you pick a few of your friends and we’ll go to the Reds stadium to get a tour and practice with the guys. Then afterward, we can come home and do pizza and cake with your family.”
Hunter’s eyes light up. “Are you for real?”
“Yeah,” Landon says with a nod. “We can plan it for a weekend when the team is home.”
I glance over at him and mouth thank you, and he shoots me back a wink.
Once dinner is done and the dishes are washed, Ella drags us into the living room. After setting up the music on her phone and moving the coffee table out of the way, she hits play and proceeds to show us her new moves. Of course, while she’s dancing, she also makes it a point to add in some of her gymnastics moves. When she’s done and turns the music off, everyone claps.
“That’s really good,” Landon says. “At this rate, one day we’re going to see you in the Olympics.”
Ella giggles. “I’ve been doing gymnastics and dance since I was a baby. Right, Mom?”
“That’s right. She’s always had rhythm. Even when she was a toddler, she would stand against the couch and shake her tiny little butt to the music I would play while I was cleaning.”
Ella laughs. “Oh! Can I show Landon the pictures?”
“Sure.”
Ella runs over to the bookshelf and pulls the box of photo albums down. She grabs it and brings it over to the couch. As she’s shuffling through each one, trying to find what she’s looking for, a couple of older photos fall out. “Who’s this?” Ella asks curiously.
When I take a look at the photo she’s referring to, my stomach drops. “Her name was Melissa,” I say softly. “She was a…” I clear my throat. “She was a friend of mine in high school.”
“She’s not your friend anymore?” Ella asks.
I glance at Landon, who looks like he’s seen a ghost. And I guess technically he has… “She died when we were teenagers,” I tell Ella, truthfully. “She was in a car accident.”
We hadn’t spoken after I found out what she did to me at the party, and a few months later, her mom called to let me know Melissa was dead. She couldn’t give me the specifics, other than the fact Melissa was thrown from the car and died on the way to the hospital. For a long time, I was overcome with guilt that the last words I ever spoke to her were telling her I never wanted to speak to her again. Melissa was troubled and out of control. She made horrible choices, especially the night she slipped me that pill, but she didn’t deserve to die so young. Maybe it’s because I’m now older and a mother that I view her in a different light. She needed help and structure and guidance. She was acting out and seeking attention because she lacked it at home. Regardless of her wrongdoings, it’s still a tragedy when a child’s life is taken.