Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I was halfway to the garage when the door flung open. Robbie threw himself at me.
I caught him and held him up. It’d only been a month and a half, but I swore he’d gotten bigger.
“Robbie!”
“Heya, sis,” he mumbled into my neck, his arms wrapped tight. One last squeeze, and then he pulled back.
I didn’t want to let him go, but I had to. I kept my hands on his arms and set him to stand on his own feet. “You look so big. You’re tall too.”
He was an inch shorter than I was. I looked at our mom. “Is that normal? How tall is he now?”
She laughed, coming inside with a pizza box and two other bags hanging from her arms. “Well, he shot up half an inch, but I don’t think he’s the one who changed.”
I frowned at her, eyes lingering on the pizza box.
“You lost weight!” Robbie nearly shouted. “I got taller, but you got smaller.” He could wrap his fingers around my arm, or the bottom of my arm. My bicep still had some muscle to it.
I shrugged, grinning stupidly. “That’s probably going to change.” I pointed to the pizza I’d ordered.
Our mom started laughing. “I got confused for a second.” She held up the one she was carrying. “Robbie insisted on stopping and getting you food. He was worried.” She gazed at him, her eyes softening. Everything about her softened. “I told you, you didn’t have to worry.”
He smiled. “I’ll always worry.” Then he tightened his hold around me again, hugging me. “I’ve missed you, Mac.”
I hugged him back, closing my eyes. “Me too.”
If I could’ve held him all night, I would’ve. It was as if he wasn’t just my brother anymore, but half me, half my son, half my responsibility. Or that might’ve been Willow’s influence. She was gone, and I didn’t want to lose anyone else, ever again.
“Okay.” Mom clapped her hands, pushing her sleeve back to peer at her watch. “It’s close to midnight. Robbie, you don’t have school tomorrow, but you need to go to bed. And Mackenzie . . .”
I waited for her order, my arm resting around Robbie’s shoulder.
She paused, staring at us and rubbing away a tear. “We have lots to talk about, but you do have school, and you aren’t allowed any more skip days. Off to bed, and no boys sneaking in. Got it?”
She was pretending to be the stern parent. Robbie and I both saw right the act, though.
We nodded, and Robbie went first, hugging her before running upstairs.
“Take your bag!” she called after him.
His footsteps pounded back down the stairs. He grabbed a bag and gave us a huge smile. His cheeks were flushed. “I forgot.” Then he was off again, pounding the stairs as if he had never been gone in the first place.
I felt her hands first, a soft touch as she pulled me in for a hug. “Are you okay, honey?”
I didn’t know for sure, but I felt a seventh piece attach to the others. Fitting right.
I hugged her back and whispered, “Please bring Dad home too.”
“Oh, Mackenzie.”
I wasn’t the only one who’d lost weight. Her almost-frail form shook in my arms. She smoothed a hand down my back, brushing some of my hair.
“I will. I will.” She coughed and leaned back, holding me like I’d held Robbie moments before. Her eyes traced all over my face. “Please be okay. Please.”
My throat swelled, and I blinked a bit at that. Shocked.
I nodded. “I’m trying.”
“Okay.” She tugged me back for another hug. “And I mean it; no Ryan tonight.”
I nodded again, and with a soft smile and flutter in my stomach, I went upstairs after my brother.
I was getting ready for bed, or at least curling into bed with my Kindle, when there was a soft tapping sound.
I almost went to the window, thinking it was Ryan, but my door creaked open.
Robbie poked his head around the corner, his hand still hanging onto the doorknob. “Hi.”
He might’ve been eleven, but he was three in my mind. He was still my little brother.
Feeling everything melting inside, I patted the bed next to me. “Come on.”
A big, wide smile appeared, and he hurled himself onto my bed. Scooting under the covers, he laid his head on my second pillow and gave me his toothy smile.
This guy—he owned me. I balled up a fist and pretended to punch him in the stomach. “How’s it knocking, little brother?” Instead of hitting him, I began tickling.
He laughed, shrieked, and twisted around, but he looked over his shoulder when I stopped. I started tickling his side, and cue the shrieks and laughter again.
“Hey! What are you two doing?”
Robbie was breathless, panting as we heard Mom yelling from downstairs.
I chuckled and then yelled back, “Robbie won’t get out of my bed! Mom, come make him.”