Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“You got a dog?” My mouth gapes. “You’re kidding me.”
He laughs. “Lo, this is Snaps. Snaps, this is Lauren.” He places his mouth next to the puppy’s ear. “Don’t tell her anything I said about her, okay?”
“You’re not serious.”
He scratches it beneath its chin. “He’s a cutie.”
“Jack,” I say, blowing out a breath in disbelief. “What the fuck?”
“I got him last weekend. A guy came by with a couple of puppies that he was taking to the rescue center. Maddie happened to be in my office, and . . . you can imagine how that went.”
Maddie knew about this? I give Jack a look and then take in the little Jack Russell terrier scurrying around. He’s adorable, bopping around the yard like he’s had a couple of doses of caffeine big enough to kill an elephant.
“Where are you keeping it?” I ask, switching my attention back to Jack. “Don’t you think getting a dog might be something you talk with your wife about prior to purchase?”
“I didn’t buy him. I rescued him.”
“Same difference.”
Jack scoops him up, and the dog curls against Jack’s chest as he stands. “What can I say? I needed something to cuddle at night when I stay at the shop.”
I glare at him. “You know, that would be funny if—”
“We got everything put in the right rooms,” Michael says, marching confidently down the cabin’s front stairs with his sister behind him. “Want us to unload your car now, Mom?”
Snaps barks. At me.
I narrow my eyes. Don’t yell at me, you little shit.
“We need to have a conversation, children,” I say, popping a hand on my hip.
Maddie sighs, leaning on a wooden post that holds up the porch. Now isn’t the time for your teenage drama, Mads.
“What about?” Michael asks, feigning ignorance.
“You know what about,” Jack tells him. “And while I give you an E for effort on this little scheme of yours—the execution was well done—it’s not cool. You two get that, right? Massive overstepping of boundaries.”
I look at Jack. Oh, the irony.
Michael stretches his arms out with his palms in a stopping gesture. “Okay. Just everyone, calm down. Let’s take a breath and appreciate our surroundings. We’re in this beautiful forest together. As a family.” He grins. “Let’s respect this moment.”
“I absolutely agree,” Maddie says, giggling.
Jack watches me out of the corner of his eye. “Enough playing around. Why did you two little monsters think it was okay to trick your mother and I into coming here today?”
“Was it a trick?” Maddie turns to her brother. “I don’t think we were tricking anyone. I mean, Dad wanted to come up here, and we needed to bring Pops his meds. It’s a coincidence. A nice, happy little coincidence.”
I point toward my car. “If you need anything out of there, get it, because I’m going home.”
“Mom,” Maddie whines. “No. You can’t leave.”
Jack stills beside me.
“I can’t stay here, Maddie.”
“Yes, you can.”
My face burns.
I don’t know how to navigate this. My defenses climb up. My shoulders stiffen as all three members of my family stare at me like I’m the problem.
I don’t want to be the problem, and I don’t want to be the bad guy. And I sure as hell don’t want to stay here because Jack pities me.
“Mom. Stay.” Michael stands shoulder to shoulder with his sister. “Please. You’re already here—and you’re packed. Well, we brought stuff for you. That’s the part you hate, and it’s already done.”
I switch my gaze from Michael to Maddie and back. The look on their faces kills me.
Are they guilting me? Of course they are. They’re teenagers and master manipulators. But for once in their lives, they aren’t conning me into letting them have an extra hour at a birthday party or a new pair of shoes when the ones they have are perfectly fine.
They want their family together. I get it. In a perfect world, so do I.
“You want her here, too, right, Daddy?” Maddie asks, flashing a look at her father that she knows helps her get her way 99 percent of the time.
Against my better judgment, I look at my husband.
He’s already looking at me.
Whatever he’s thinking is locked away. I have no idea what’s rolling around in his head. It’s strange not to know his thoughts, because I always have. I’m used to knowing what he’s thinking before he can verbalize it.
But as I stand under the sweltering sun with sweat rolling down my back in a steady stream, I’m not sure what’s going through his mind. I’m really not certain that I want to know.
“It’s up to your mom,” Jack says, his words measured.
Oh, great. Thanks for putting it on me to destroy their dreams.
I sigh.
“You’ve already made time,” Michael says. “You thought you were coming here for two weeks until a couple of days ago. There’s no reason you have to go home. And this is our family vacation. You can’t just leave.”