Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“I agree,” Sky adds. “I think he needs to experience the dough to make a decision.”
“Agree,” Celeste says.
I watch as both of them walk over to where they were standing when I came in, unsure what they mean by experiencing the dough. But less than a minute later, I find out exactly what they mean when Skyla balls up a piece of the dough and throws it at me. The sticky dough smacks me in the face, and the girls crack up laughing.
“Hey!” I yell. “That’s not cool.”
“Oh no!” Celeste says, feigning concern. “Did the dough stick to you?” She cackles, and it sounds scary as fuck. “It’s probably because it doesn’t have enough flour. Here, let me help you.” She takes a handful of flour and walks toward me. And before I can stop her, she dumps it over my head.
Now the mess in the kitchen makes perfect sense. Sky laughs so hard, she snorts.
“So, it’s like that, huh?” I ask no one in particular. “All right…” I walk over to where the dough is sitting in the bowl, and grab it. “Game on!”
Celeste’s eyes go wide, and she ducks, thinking I’m going to throw the dough at her. But instead, I take a large dollop in my hand, bridge the gap between us, and smoosh it all over her mouth.
Sky is now laughing so hard, she’s bent over, holding onto her stomach. But when she sees me eye her, she stops and grabs a handful of dough. “Don’t come any closer or I will be forced to use this on you.” She raises her fist, and I laugh. And then I cut across the kitchen, and grabbing her by the waist, throw her over my shoulder.
“Dad!” She squeals. “Put me down.” Taking some flour in my hand, I turn her right-side up and dump it over her head, at the same time Celeste dumps more over mine.
We spend the next however long throwing dough and flour at each other. I don’t even want to think about the mess I’m going to have to clean up.
When the doorbell chimes, Celeste raises her hands in surrender. “I’m waving the white flag!” She giggles. “That’s dinner.”
“You ordered?”
“Well…” She traps her bottom lip between her teeth, nervously, then releases it. “I tried to cook.”
“But it burnt,” Sky adds with a shrug.
“Yeah,” Celeste agrees.
“You two go get cleaned up, and I’ll pay for the food.”
“I can get it,” Celeste insists. “It’s my fault that dinner got ruined.”
“I got it, babe,” I tell her with a kiss, forgetting my daughter is in the room.
“I knew you two were a couple!” Sky yells as she runs up the stairs. “Friends my butt!”
After we finish eating dinner and clean up the mess in the kitchen—though, flour will probably be found in every nook and cranny for the foreseeable future—Sky asks if we can all watch a movie together. I look at Celeste, unsure if she has anywhere she needs to be, and she says she would love to.
Sky and Celeste pick out the movie while I make the popcorn, and then the three of us pile onto the couch to watch the movie. Jax comes home halfway through it, but says he’s heading back out and not to wait up. When the movie ends, both Sky and Celeste are passed out. I lift them off me then carry Sky to bed. It’s not often I get to carry my daughter to bed, so I try to engrave the moment into my memory for the times when she’s rebelling against me and telling me she wants nothing to do with me.
Once she’s tucked in, I head back down for Celeste. I should probably wake her up and ask if she wants to go home or stay, but she’s out. So instead, I carry her up to my room and lay her in my bed. Apparently burning food and having food fights is exhausting. I laugh to myself as I recall the look of embarrassment on her face as she explained how she misread the directions for the roast. Then when she and Skyla tried to make cookies, they ended up spilling and eating more than actually got placed onto the cookie sheet.
In Celeste’s eyes, she failed. There was no roast for dinner or cookies for dessert. The kitchen was a mess that we had to clean up. She apologized several times.
But in my eyes, she succeeded, and I told her just that. She made my daughter smile and laugh. She bonded with her—created memories that will last a lifetime. When I told her that, she just blushed and shrugged like I knew she would, and then apologized again, confirming just how guarded Celeste really is. With her fancy makeup and designer clothes, she appears strong from up in her high-rise expensive condo. As if she’s on top of the world. But hidden behind her makeup and clothes, behind the walls she’s built up to protect herself, is a vulnerable, insecure woman who just wants to be loved. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to love her.