Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“You wanna sit before you fall?” my dad asked quietly.
I took a step forward and then stopped myself. I wanted to touch him. Run my hand over his hair, down his arms. I wanted to hold him, but he was still nervously peeking around the chair and I knew that without a doubt if I did any of that I would freak him out.
Did he bite his nails? He looked tall. How tall was he when he was standing up?
“Hi,” Rhett said softly, his thumb going into his mouth.
“I’m—” I floundered. Did I tell him my name? How did you introduce yourself to your own fucking son?
“He knows who you are,” Emilia said, running her hand over his head the way I wanted to. “Don’t you, Rhett?”
He looked up at Emilia in confusion before looking back at me. She crouched down next to him and turned his chair so they were both facing me.
“You know him,” she said gently as they both stared up at me. “Look at his face, baby. Who is that?”
Rhett’s mouth dropped opened in excited recognition and his head whipped to the side to look at his mom. “Daddy?”
“That’s him,” she confirmed, her eyes on our son.
“Big,” Rhett whispered, making my dad chuckle.
“I told you he was big. That’s why you’re so tall,” she said with a smile, poking him in the side. “And you have the same brown eyes.”
“Hi,” Rhett said again, looking back at me.
“Hi, buddy,” I rasped. I knew I should do something. Say something. But it felt like the world had suddenly shifted and I was trying to figure out how to keep standing. My skin felt hot. The air in the room seemed too thin.
I moved forward and crouched a few feet from him.
“You havin’ a snack?” I said dumbly, running my hand over my beard. Fuck, I hadn’t even looked in a mirror before I’d left the shop. I probably looked like a goddamn madman with my hair flying all over the place.
“Yeah, snack,” he replied easily.
“I told you we were going to see your daddy,” Emilia said, putting her hand on his back.
“Daddy,” Rhett repeated, reaching forward to touch my beard. He snatched his hand back quickly and leaned against Emilia.
“It’s gettin’ kind of long,” I said, reaching up to tug on my beard.
Rhett just looked at me, swinging his legs a little.
“It’s really nice to meet you,” I whispered. “You’re so big.”
“I’m two,” Rhett replied around the thumb in his mouth. It took me a second to decipher what he’d said.
“You’re two?” I dropped my mouth open in surprise. “Whoa. You’ll be driving a car soon.”
“No car,” Rhett said, his nose wrinkling.
“He’s sick of the car,” Emilia explained with an embarrassed huff of laughter. “I don’t really blame him. It was a long drive.”
Suddenly, and without warning, I felt like I was going to blubber like a baby. How long of a drive was it? Where had they been?
“Car shirt,” Rhett told me, raising his eyebrows as he pointed to his chest. It sounded like he was saying car shit, and I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my lips.
“That’s a very cool shirt.”
“It’s his favorite,” Emilia said, sounding as shaken as I was.
“You car shirt?” Rhett asked, pulling his thumb out of his mouth.
“I don’t have a car shirt.” I shook my head. “But I have a couple motorcycle shirts.”
“Motorcycle,” Rhett replied, his eyes lighting up. He made a sound that was remarkably similar to the roar of Harley pipes.
“Whoa, man,” I said, falling back on my heels, making him giggle. He made the sound again. “You’re good at that!”
“Yeah, he likes motorcycles,” Emilia murmured. “Don’t you, Rhett?”
“No surprise there,” my mom said, her voice trembling.
“Mom, I need to do some laundry. I’m not goin’ to the laundromat again. The little old ladies always hit on me, and I’m startin’ to have a hard time fightin’ them off—” Rumi called out from the front of the house. “Who’s car is out front? I swear it looks just like the one—”
He came to a stunned stop as he reached the kitchen, his mouth dropping open in surprise. “Emilia?”
“Hey, Rum,” Emilia said, straightening up. “How’ve you been?”
“Holy shit,” he shouted, dropping the garbage bag of laundry as he lurched for her. He didn’t hesitate for a second before wrapping her up in a bear hug and spinning her around in a circle. “Where the hell have you been, sprite?”
“That’s a good question,” I said. I didn’t want to touch her, but the ease in which he’d done it made something like jealousy flare hot in my chest.
Rumi looked down at me and then at Rhett, and dropped Emilia abruptly onto her feet again.
“Who are you?” he asked Rhett in confusion.
Rhett immediately clammed up and his thumb went back into his mouth.