Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
“Yeah, until our house gets finished. I’m hoping to be in there within six weeks.”
“Well, we have lots of fun things going on here in the summer. We do campfires out on the lawn in the evenings, swimming and canoeing in the lake and I teach kids’ baking classes.”
Spencer looked at me hopefully. “Can I take a baking class, Dad?”
“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”
A blob of blueberry cheesecake fell from my shirt onto the floor, sending the kids into another fit of laughter.
“I’ll let you get cleaned up,” Shea said. “Will you guys be eating in the dining hall tonight?”
“Not sure yet,” I said. “My mom said she’s making roast one night this week. I can’t remember if it’s tonight.”
“Well, next time you eat in the dining hall, try the cheesecake. I think you’ll like it when it’s on a plate instead of, you know...all over you.”
She cringed and gave us a final smile before walking over to Lenny to thank him for cleaning up the mess and then walking away.
“Dad, why are you looking at her back?” Spencer asked.
“I, uh...I wasn’t.”
“Yes, you were. You were staring at her back. Don’t be a creeper.”
I glanced at Lenny, who was holding back a smile. Damn kids. They were too smart for their own good sometimes.
A couple of hours later, Spencer was chasing Marley up the open front staircase of our future home while I talked to the general contractor, Ray.
“This was worth the holdup,” I said as I admired the view through the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto Lake Karlsson.
“I agree. The black is a better fit for such a modern design.”
The windows with black casing had been back-ordered, and I’d decided a three-week delay was better than switching windows. Now that they were in, I was confident I’d made the right call.
“What is that?” I asked, squinting as I tried to make out a small shape in the middle of the lake.
Ray took a closer look too. “Oh, that’s Tipper. He owns The Corner Café.”
“Ah. That explains why everyone calls it Tipper’s.”
“Yeah, he’s determined to win the cardboard boat race this year, so he’s been experimenting with different designs.”
“A cardboard boat?” My brows shot up in surprise. “That far out in the lake?”
“Oh, he had to swim back in a time or two. See, that’s why he tows the little rowboat behind him.”
Only in the Beard. This was one of the reasons I’d moved here to raise my kids—so they could get to know people who weren’t afraid to fail. It was a lesson I hoped to instill in my youth hockey players, too.
If you never fail, you aren’t trying hard enough.
I had that saying taped to my locker for years. With the right mindset, all failures build us into stronger, more resilient people. I knew there was a lesson in my failed marriage somewhere, but it was hard to find it when my kids still cried for their mom sometimes.
“Dad, Spencer scared me!” Marley cried, running down the stairs.
“Spence, leave your sister alone,” I said absently.
“She’s the one who scared me with her ugly face,” he said.
“Hey.” I turned to lock eyes with him. “Don’t be mean to your sister.”
He scowled and headed for the basement. I looked back out at the lake, envisioning a future where I woke up to this view every morning.
Despite my fighting children, this place gave me a sense of peace. The lapping waves and scent of freshly cut wood were part of this place that was just mine, Spencer’s and Marley’s. There would never be memories of Andrea here.
We’d have birthday parties, Christmas mornings and sleepovers here. This would be a place where my kids were always safe, loved and wanted. I’d never let anyone else into their lives who would leave them. Fail them. Make them feel like they weren’t good enough.
“The stone came in for the fireplace,” Ray said. “Want to see it?”
“Yeah, I do.”
I followed him out to the large three-stall garage, where building materials were stored until they were needed. There was also a separate two-stall garage with a loft on the side of my property, which I planned to make into a workshop.
Andrea’s affair had forced me to change. I’d been a self-centered, chirp-serving hockey player who spent a few hours a week with my kids. Now, I was a retired full-time dad planning my future woodworking shop and helping build a youth hockey league.
I loved playing hockey bone-deep, but I was a better version of myself now.
“What do you think?” Ray asked, picking up a gray stone that was the size of a small dinner plate.
“I think I was right,” I said, grinning.
We’d worked with a female architect and a female interior designer to plan my home, and the designer had been adamant about putting shiplap on the two-story fireplace in the open great room, but I wanted stone.