Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
My hand slides across the console to his leg. “I’m here. I’ll make turkey. I’ll find the perfect tree. I’ll meet you at the altar.”
That’s it. That’s as far as I can go, but he doesn’t need to know that. The relief on his face means too much. It means everything right now.
“I fucking love you. You know that, right?” He takes my hand and kisses it over and over before pressing it to his cheek, closing his eyes for a brief second.
“I know,” I whisper. “I … know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Chad didn’t mean to start the neighbor’s house on fire, but he did.
“Is Dad taking us to watch the fireworks?” he asked Mom the morning of July fourth. Our first Fourth of July since our parents separated.
I didn’t care if he came home to take us to watch fireworks. I didn’t care if he ever came home.
“Sorry, hon. He has other plans.” Mom offered us a sad smile while she served us patriotic pancakes. Blueberries, strawberries, and bananas.
“What other plans?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, call him,” Chad insisted.
“It’s none of my business, hon.”
“You’re not divorced. Call him.” Chad was relentless. He was either fixated on his games and oblivious to the rest of the world or fixated on something else and relentless to the person whom he thought was responsible for granting his new wish. There was absolutely no in-between with him.
“Josie’s dad said you could do better.” I wasn’t sure if anyone wanted my two cents, but I gave it anyway.
Mom stood up straight, set the spatula on the counter like it was a bomb ready to explode. Taking a deep breath, she turned toward the table and wiped her hands on a towel. “He is your father. And you need a father. Despite what Isaac said, I’m not looking for a replacement. I’m not looking to do better. I’m simply trying to raise two boys, take care of a house on my own, and keep myself from crying all day long. Maybe … maybe your father doesn’t deserve me. Maybe I can do better. But I still love him. Even if I’m angry with him. Even if some days I feel like I hate him for what he did to our family … I still love him. Falling in love is the biggest risk your heart will ever take. You can’t fall in love if your heart is not available, and the only way to make it available is by allowing it to be vulnerable. I hope you never have your hearts broken, but not taking the risk would be far more tragic.”
Only in hindsight did I realize what an epic speech my mom gave to two clueless boys. Only in hindsight did I realize how honest and vulnerable she allowed her heart to be just to give us a peek into the world of relationships and heartbreak.
Sadly, neither Chad nor I had the emotional maturity to gain a single ounce of wisdom from that speech.
“If you’re not going to call Dad, then I’m going to do it.” Good old Chad. Dog with a bone.
“You will eat your breakfast. Brush your teeth. And help me with the dishes I need to make to take over to the Watts’s house later.”
“No. I won’t.” Chad poked the bear so hard I couldn’t help but cringe.
Mom was patient, but she wasn’t Jesus. “GO. TO. YOUR. ROOM!” She jabbed a finger in the direction of the stairs.
Chad, being the stubborn and belligerent little fuck that he was, threw a pancake at my mom, smacking her in the face. Her whole head turned red like the strawberries while syrup and whipped topping dripped from her jaw.
She stomped toward him. I had never seen her look so feral. Apparently, neither had Chad because he jolted out of his chair and sprinted up the stairs. When she turned back toward me, I tucked my chin and shoveled down my breakfast. Then, I cleaned up the kitchen without being asked and checked in on my mom. She was face down on her bed crying.
“Come on, twerp,” Chad said, poking his head in the bathroom while I brushed my teeth.
“Where?” I asked.
“To get fireworks.”
“They’re illegal.”
“They’re in the garage.”
I squinted at him before spitting.
“Dad bought them in Missouri the summer that we moved. But then he found out that we lived next door to the chief of police, so he never set them off.”
I jogged down the stairs behind Chad. “We still live across the street from the chief of police.”
“He just pulled out of his driveway. We can set a few off before he gets back.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Mom doesn’t even let me use a lighter for candles.”
“Listen, pussy, sometimes you have to do fun stuff because it’s fun, not because your mommy says it’s okay.” Chad pulled out the ladder and set it up right in the middle of the stall where Dad used to park. Retrieving a box from the boards along the rafters, Chad dropped it to the ground with a big thunk.