Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
I trusted Kathy would take good care of Gray when he visited, and I’d never had a problem with him going to her house, but I fucking hated the place. The woman never opened a window or let any fresh air in, and it left the house with a stink that she couldn’t hide with the scented shit she stashed on every counter and shelf.
“Gray?” I called.
Within seconds, my son was galloping down the hallway, the thumb in his mouth not hiding the wide grin he was giving me.
“How’s my boy?” I asked as I lifted him into the air. “You have fun at Granny’s?”
He babbled something I could barely understand about dogs and TV around his thumb, then laid his head on my shoulder with a sigh. He was tired. Kathy probably hadn’t given him a nap, and there was no place in her house that he felt comfortable putting himself to bed.
“I really think he should stay here again tonight,” Kathy said as I strode toward the door. I looked at her incredulously as she stepped in front of me like she was going to block me from leaving. “Then you can go do what you do. It was Ash’s night tonight, anyway.”
“Ash isn’t here,” I ground out, angry that she was bringing any of this up in front of Gray. “And she isn’t going to be here.”
“Mama?” Gray asked, his little fingers playing with the sleeve of my t-shirt.
“I just think—”
“I know what you think, Kathy,” I said, trying to keep my voice from showing my frustration. “But you won’t win. You wanna see Gray? I’m cool with that. You let me know when you’re up for a visit, and I’ll do my best to make sure you get it.”
“I’m his only family left.”
“No,” I said firmly, trying like hell to keep my temper. “He’s got a whole other family that loves him.”
“So you’re just going to cut me out?” she hissed, her voice wobbling.
“I never said that, and I never would.”
Gray’s fingers tightened in my shirt and started twisting it from side to side, and that’s when I knew I needed to get the fuck out of there. I pushed past Kathy’s small, wiry frame, and ignored the way her nails dug into my bicep as I stepped onto the porch. I’d almost made it to the steps when I came to a stop, unable to go any further.
Turning around, I met Kathy’s eyes. “You’re always welcome to see Gray,” I said gently, feeling sorry for the old bat as I watched tears run down her face. “And if you need anythin’, you just let me know, alright?”
She glared at me, but finally nodded before she spun around and closed the door.
We’d barely made it out of Kathy’s neighborhood before Gray was passed out in the back seat. Usually I’d take him back to my apartment and put him to bed if he fell asleep in the car, but I couldn’t stand the thought of sitting there alone in the quiet until he woke up. I needed some noise, something to distract me from the knowledge that as soon as he woke up, Gray was going to start asking about his mama. He always did that. If he woke up with Ashley, he asked about me, and if he woke up with me he asked about Ash.
I wasn’t even sure how to handle it. He was too young to understand any explanation. Telling him that he wouldn’t see his mom again wouldn’t have any effect, because there was just no way that his little brain could process that kind of information. I had a feeling that for the next few months, I’d spend most of my time with him explaining that it was Dad’s day, not Mom’s, until he finally quit asking.
Imagining the confusion I’d see on his face made me nauseous.
The clubhouse was pretty busy when we got there, and I was glad. Even if I laid down with Gray for his nap, I’d still be able to hear people moving around and music playing outside my room. With all the noise, he’d probably wake up before he was ready, but there were enough people around to keep his attention occupied and any fits to a minimum.
Gray didn’t stir as I unbuckled his tiny, sweaty body from his car seat. My boy always slept hot. From the time he was about three months old, we hadn’t been able to put him in those thick pajamas with the snaps because he’d sweat his way through them in an hour and then we’d have a soaking wet, screaming baby to deal with. Even if he was in shorts and a t-shirt, after just a few minutes of sleep, the hair around his temples and the back of his neck was damp.