Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Does it make me a terrible mother if a part of me is dreading her learning to crawl in the next few months?” Lana asked, wincing a little as she admitted it.
“Hazel was the Energizer Bunny when she was crawling. Isaac was more content to stay where he was at. I have a feeling Clara is going to take after her big sister. Why do you have chalk?” she asked, her mind circling back.
“Like I said, big fuc—“ I started, then looked down at Clara with a guilty turn to my lips. “Big family. Most of my cousins are settling down and having kids. So I keep some stuff around to keep them busy if they come over.”
“You said you have a sister, right? Is she married?”
“No. Kit actually spent years traveling the world with her best friend. She just recently moved back to town and bought some land. She’s homesteading. I think she’s finally looking for some roots. Figure she’ll want the husband and kid thing eventually. She’s younger,” I added.
“Do you?” Lana asked. “Want the wife and kids thing,” she clarified.
“Yeah,” I said without hesitation. “That was part of the reason for getting a house and my business going. Gives me something solid to offer someone. What?” I asked as she looked at me like a puzzle whose pieces just weren’t lining up properly.
“Nothing. I just don’t think I’ve actually heard a man talk like that,” she admitted.
And, considering she had three children, yeah, that said a lot, didn’t it?
“I always knew I wanted a family,” I explained. “One of the perks of growing up in a big one, I guess. You learn really early if it’s for you or not.”
“I always knew I wanted one because I didn’t have a big family,” she admitted. “I want a big, loud, happy family,” she said, and there was a sad edge to her words, making it clear she didn’t feel she quite had that yet.
“Seems like you’re on the right path,” I said, jiggling Clara as she started to get antsy.
“She’s ready for bed,” Lana said, standing, and reaching for her daughter. “Thanks for holding her. You’re a natural,” she told me.
That meant more to me than it probably should have.
Seeming to sense that it was time, the other two made their way back toward the house, the dog in tow, begging for more cookies and a movie in bed. To which Lana agreed.
“Thanks again…” Lana said, jiggling Clara. “For everything.”
Then she was gone.
And I walked back to my big house all alone.
And as fucked up as this sounds, it felt, I don’t know, wrong.
What the fuck was that about?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lana
The kids had been ecstatic when I’d told them about the house with a yard.
To my surprise, even Miss Patricia had been happy as she came back to my apartment to put Clara down for her nap as I started pulling everything I owned out of cabinets and dresser drawers.
“It’s good,” she told me. “I don’t like how the super looks at you,” she added, surprising me that she’d noticed. But it felt affirming, since a part of me was worried I’d been really paranoid about that whole situation. “A woman alone, there’s vulnerability in that,” she added.
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding. “I think this move is going to be a lot safer for us. Plus the kids should have a yard.”
It was the first thing they’d wanted to do after I gave them a tour of our new place—run outside and chase each other, get to know the landscape.
Seth’s yard was even fenced. Sure, it was a little old and rickety, but it meant safety. It meant I could go inside and feed or change Clara, and not have to be worried sick about not having my eyes on them for every single second.
I mean, I wasn’t sure there would ever be a time when I would leave them alone for more than ten minutes, though. Considering, well, everything.
The trauma was still too raw to ignore. And I didn’t think my paranoia was ever going to go away.
But at least I could get ten minutes to change a diaper or change out a load of wash. The never-ending wash.
I’d already done four loads by the end of our first day in the new place, getting that pile from the apartment down to a more manageable size.
As I tucked in the assed-out kids, their movie only half watched, put Clara down in her cradle in the living room, then sat my exhausted ass on the couch that would be my bed beside her, it was like five months of stress had dissipated.
Hell, it was like eight years of stress had fallen away.
Not for long, of course.
There were always things to stress about, but for a few short moments, all there was in the world was peace and safety and, God, hope.