Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“You help by relaxing.”
I cook. Watch Maren and Katie out of the corner of my eye. They look so cozy. Sipping her coffee, Maren runs her fingers through Katie’s hair. When a new episode of SuperKitties comes on, they sing the theme song together. Katie giggles. Maren kisses her cheeks, making my daughter laugh harder.
The kitchen smells like coffee and sugary batter in the griddle. Usually Katie would slam into me at some point, asking me when her breakfast will be ready and/or playing with the oven dials. But she stays wrapped up in Maren. Snug as a bug in a rug, as Mom would say.
“Pancakes are ready,” I call.
Katie leaps off the couch. “Maren, come have pancakes!”
“I would love to.” She takes Katie’s hand and pads over to the kitchen table. Coffee mug in her other hand. The sunlight streaming through the windows catches on Maren’s dark hair, turning the strands to bronze.
I nod at her empty mug. “Would you like more?”
“Um. I would, but—”
My stomach drops. I forget the rules, but I vaguely remember caffeine being on the list of things pregnant women can’t have. Or can’t have much of.
I clear my throat. “Right.”
The three of us sit at the table. Katie is between Maren and me. Glancing at us, she smiles, bobbing happily on her knees as she pops a bite of pancake in her mouth.
“On your bottom,” Maren and I say.
Still smiling, Katie does as we tell her.
“Do you love pancakes or do you love pancakes?” Maren watches Katie house one pancake, then another.
Katie giggles. “I love them.”
My daughter never giggles this much at breakfast. She’s almost slap-happy, stealing bites of pancake off my plate, a blackberry off Maren’s.
Maren and I reach for Katie’s water at the same time. Our fingers brush. My blood ignites.
Maren grins tightly. “Great minds. Katie, drink your water.”
I wait for Katie to protest. For whatever reason, my kid does not love to hydrate. But she takes the stainless-steel cup out of my hand and sips thirstily on the straw. Maren and I laugh when she lets out a satisfied ahhh.
“Did you teach her that?” I ask.
Maren nods. “Sure did. Because drinking enough water every day makes us feel good, doesn’t it, Your Highness?”
“Yes. Now can we all play together?” Katie asks. “Please please please? I’ll be the pink SuperKitty. Daddy, you be the purple. Maren, you’re the blue. Or the orange. No, I want to be the purple one. Can we go to Target and buy the purple costume?”
Laughing, I set my fork on my empty plate. “Maren’s not working today, Squish. She probably has to study.”
Katie pouts. “She don’t have to study.”
“I do, actually.” Maren grabs Katie and settles her in her lap. “But I’d much rather play SuperKitties with you.”
I get the feeling she doesn’t want to be alone right now.
I don’t think I want to be either.
“You really don’t have to,” I say.
Maren looks at me. “I really don’t mind. Unless y’all want some one-on-one time?”
“We got no plans today except to hang out.”
What I really want to say but can’t: Stay. I like it better when you’re here.
The desire to let those words tumble from my mouth takes me off guard.
How much I wanna open up to this girl—let her in—it keeps taking me totally off guard.
Maren turns back to Katie. “Sounds like we can all play together, then.”
Katie literally screams with delight. Maren flashes me a smile. She still looks tired, but the color is back in her face. She’s got food in her belly.
Everything sucks less after a solid meal. Probably why I’m feeling better too.
“How about this?” Maren asks. “It’s such a beautiful day outside already. Why don’t we go play SuperKitties on the beach?”
Another scream. This one makes my eye twitch. “I love the beach! Let’s go.”
“You have to put on sunscreen!” I yell after Katie as she disappears down the stairs to get her shoes.
Maren helps me clear the table. “I left a message at my OBGYN’s office. I’m hoping they can squeeze me in for an appointment next week.”
I grab the plates from her and set them in the sink. “Just let me know when it is. We can take my boat over—”
“Wait, we?”
I furrow my brow. “I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to. If it’s okay with you, of course.”
Maren bites her lip. “Sure. Yeah, that’d be great.”
“Daddy!” Katie calls. “I pooped in my pants. It’s just a little one, though.”
I drop the forks I’m holding and groan. “This is torture.”
“We’re working on it. I got Katie if you want to finish up here.” She nods at the sink. “Or I can do the dishes. Whatever’s easier.”
Turns out everything’s easier with an extra set of hands. I try not to dwell on that fact as I clean up Katie, then throw on shorts, a shirt, and a baseball hat.