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)
I didn’t know what the fuck was going on with the electrical. My best guess would be the system was overloaded. But I didn’t know shit about how to fix that, so I would have to make some calls, and hope I could get someone out the next day to look at it.
“Did you ever fix your sink?” Lana asked as we all loaded in my back door and into the kitchen.
“Hired someone,” I said, nodding. “Figured it would avoid hurting the pride of all my uncles if I just called someone else in to do it,” I told her, putting the baked ziti down next to the stove. “What am I pre-heating to?” I asked.
“I can—“
“Honey, what am I preheating to?” I cut her off, watching as she fought to keep the smile off her face.
“Three-fifty,” she said as the kids looked around.
Rodney, thankful for a nice, cold floor, sprawled his ass out just a few feet in the back door.
“Guys want a quick tour before your mom and I go collect some stuff from your place?” I asked, getting an enthusiastic Yes! from Hazel, and a nod from Isaac who was trying to come off cool, but the light in his eyes said he was excited too.
“Alright,” I said once we finished the lower floor, and got upstairs. “Now you two can stay in here,” I said, pushing open the door to one of my spare rooms that had two twin beds. “You have a bathroom right here,” I added as we moved in, pushing the door open. “And,” I went on, moving through the bathroom to open the door to the other room, “Your mom can be right through here,” I told them.
“Cool!” Hazel said, running through the bathroom to check out the room that had a full.
“Thank you,” Lana mouthed to me as the kids tried to decide who got which bed. And what they were going to watch on the TV. And who got to take a shower first.
I shook her gratitude off. I mean, it was the least I could do, given the circumstances.
“They’ve never been this excited about a shower,” she told me as we walked into the hall. “Usually, I have to strong-arm them into it. I don’t think they’ve ever seen a shower stall before,” she added. “We’ve always had the curtain deal. New stuff is always like an adventure at their ages.”
“Wait till they see the basement then,” I said. “There’s all sorts of shit down there. Pool table. Foosball. One of those little workout trampolines. I don’t even know how I ended up with half this shit. I think my family moved their crap in when I was out for the day or something,” I said, shaking my head. “This is me,” I told her, going across the hall to show her my room. “Got my own bath too. And the doors all lock,” I told her, wanting her to feel secure about the arrangements.
“Jesus, Seth, I wasn’t worried about you doing something to my kids,” she said, brows pinching as she looked at me.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were,” I said, shrugging. “Can’t be too careful. Why the fuck else would your ass be so stubborn about this?” I added.
Maybe I should have felt like a dick for putting her on the spot, but I really did want an answer.
“It’s not like it is just me crashing,” she said, shaking her head. “Three kids is a lot.”
“Christ, Lana, you make it sound like they’re fucking Gremlins or something,” I said, getting a snort out of her. “We just won’t feed them after midnight. It’ll be fine,” I assured her, and to that she let out that little raspy laugh I liked so much.
“Thanks again,” she said. “It would have been miserable tonight,” she conceded.
“Yeah, no shit,” I agreed. “Want me to show the kids the basement, so we can run and get the rest of your stuff?”
They took to the foosball table with gusto, and Lana sat Clara’s carseat in front of the TV with some brightly colored, singing blobs on the screen that had her instantly mesmerized, so we were free to run back and forth to her place, getting the food, the playpen, and the high chair as well as some pajamas for the kids because, well, what kids remembered to pack their own?
Finished, Lana dropped down into a chair at the kitchen table, shoulders slumped, looking fucking worn out.
“Want some coffee?” I asked, already going to the pot.
“Don’t you have to go back to work?” she asked, frowning at me.
“I called in one of my brothers to handle shit.”
“I thought you just had a sister,” she said.
“Club brothers,” I explained.
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting about that. That’s nice that they will cover if you need them to.”