Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Sam sips his cocoa. “Why wouldn’t she, Dad? You’re a catch. All the moms at orchestra think so. And all the mom’s at school as far back as I can remember. I mean, come on, how many casserole’s were gifted to you in the pick up line in elementary school? Those were booty offers Dad, not charity.”
“I’ve never given less of a fuck about the orchestra or school mom’s than I do right now,” I say, and eat a marshmallow from the bag.
Sam wags his finger. “There’s one orchestra mom that does require that you give at least a single fuck.”
He’s got that right. “Janet.”
“Mmmhmmm,” he says, scooping up Lagerfeld from the floor. Right now he’s in this sort of flannel pajama set. Very cozy. “Her parents are the obstacle. And don’t forget her dad is your bestie. But if you really mean it, Dad, if she’s the one?”
The one. The one.
She’s the one. For now and always. I’ve never known anything with so much certainty in my life. “I can’t be without her, Sam.” My voice is thick with emotion, gravely and deep. “I need her in my life. She makes everything makes sense.’
Sam nods, wise beyond his years and with a heart of pure gold.
“Then go on. Finish your cocoa, Dad. And go see her. Because you gotta fix this shit and I gotta make some peace with my best friend being my step-mom.”
Janet answers the door with a big glass of wine and an even bigger resting bitch face.
“Shall I call the cops now or do you want me to go ahead and wait until we start screaming at each other?”
I don’t answer directly because I don’t negotiate with her controlling bullshit. “Let me talk to Ben.”
She purses her lips. “Ben!” she calls out. “Your totally untrustworthy Don Juan of a best friend is here!”
I glare at Janet. “Nice.”
“Nice yourself,” she hisses, and then shuffles off toward the kitchen.
In the living room, I watch Ben fumble desperately with the remote to pause whatever he was watching. Then he barks at Alexa to pause the TV, but he calls her Siri, and his watch answers.
“Goddamn it,” he says, punching buttons on the remote.
I step in and take the remote from him, pausing the history documentary he was watching. “We need to talk,” I say.
He nods at me, not angry but seriously fucking confused. “Let’s go out back and have a beer.”
Over two IPAs, we talk it out. Direct to the point, no bullshit, no anger. And it doesn’t take long before Ben’s feeling about as good about things as Sam was.
“I can’t say I’d be sorry,” he says, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Janet isn’t eavesdropping like some kind of goddamned prison guard. “I’m not sure she could do better than you, Mike.”
Fuck. I don’t know about that, but I’m going to spend my life trying to make her happy. “I don’t know what I’d do without her, man. I can’t think. I can’t eat. Even now, not knowing if she’s here or not? All I want is to see her. Please.”
“She’s…” Ben says, trailing off. But no sooner has he started the sentence than Jess herself comes flip-flopping out onto the patio.
She marches straight up to me. Mad. Furious. With her phone stuck out straight in front of her. “See what you did? See?”
I squint at the words and make sense of them even from a distance. Congratulations. First chair. Violin.
“Fuck,” I say, standing up to take her in my embrace. “I knew it. I knew you could do it.”
She waves her finger in the way she learned from Sam—all sass and sparkle. “Oh no you do not, mister. I want no part of a position that someone bought for me. I paid my dues, Mike. I worked hard. And there is no way I can sit first chair because you greased the wheels to guarantee it would happen.”
Wait a fucking minute. It was one thing that Sam’s mom was skeptical: that’s her nature. But to think of Jess worried that I’d been undermining her?
“What the fuck are you talking about, baby girl?” Ben grumble-gasps. And I swear I see a little glimmer of laughter in Jess’ eye. It’s only once the words have left my mouth that I realize that it was entirely inappropriate to say that in front of her dad. But whatever. Give a fuck. I can’t have her mad at me for something I didn’t do. “Don’t look at me, baby. It’s all you.”
“Are you telling me you had nothing to do with this?”
I take her phone from her and set it down and then take her hands in mine. “Of course not.”
I take her in my arms, holding her close, pressing my lips to the top of her head. “Really?” she says muffled against my shirt. “Really?”