Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Nope.” I flattened the roll, returned it to the bucket, turned away, and couldn’t help but smile.
Their little faces!
Chapter 35
Cole
This event was more or less what I had expected. It was early afternoon and we were under the canopy of a large tree. Everyone was drinking cocktails and holding onto portable fans.
The mood seemed jovial, but it was tiring to be watched by so many pairs of eyes. I made my way further into the grounds. There was only one pair of eyes I wanted on me. I looked around and did not see Montana. It had been a couple of days since our rendezvous in the car, and not a full hour had gone by that I hadn’t thought about her.
I wondered if I took up space in her mind even a fraction of the amount of space she was hogging in mine.
"Dad! Dad!" I heard the sudden piercing call. For a second, my heart lurched and I felt a strange sense of loss. She was calling me Dad. She was only seven and had already outgrown the word Daddy in public.
I turned in the direction of her voice. My little poppet was wearing a tiny apron and running towards me. Her hands were covered with … that better be mud.
"Hands to yourself," I said as she reached me.
She giggled and I was incredibly happy to see her look so happy and carefree. She had made a couple of new friends and I was pleased with her progress in school, but for the past two nights, her nightmares had recurred to the point where I had begun to suspect she was feigning them just so she could stay in bed with me because she was unsettled by the sudden move out of everything that was familiar to her.
But now she seemed free and happy.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"Pottery," she replied. "I'm trying to make you a mug. Since we couldn’t bring your favorite white and green one since we moved from New York."
"Hmmm," I said. "Remember what I told you about mentioning where we moved from?"
She slapped her hands around her mouth. “Oops,” she said and smiled so foolishly and sheepishly I had to laugh at her clay-covered face.
“Hang on,” I said, and taking my phone out snapped a photo of her.
“Let me see,” she asked.
I showed her and she began to laugh uproariously. “I look funny,” she said, between bouts of more laughter.
Everyone was looking at us. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up," I said.
She pointed to somewhere behind me. "There’s a tap in there."
"Okay, little soldier. Let’s go.” We began to head over to it.
“It’s Miss Moore, Dad!" Anya screamed suddenly.
And so it was. Montana was standing in front of four medium-sized ovens. It looked like she was in charge of baking the raw dough and cake batter that the children were bringing in from another shed. I headed over to her counter to watch as she pulled out a batch of seriously burnt muffins and laid them on the table.
"Yikes," I couldn’t help but say.
"You couldn’t even pretend," she scolded under her breath, but her eyes were twinkling.
My whole body felt warm. It must be the ovens. "Is that your fault or theirs?"
"At this point, I have no fuck— " she stopped when she noticed the mud-covered girl by my side. "What's that on your face?"
She produced a tea towel which she dipped in some water and went over to wipe Anya’s mouth.
"What's this, sweetie?" she asked.
My traitorous daughter pointed to me. "It's Dad's fault."
"Of course, it is," Montana agreed.
"Are you guys ganging up on me?" I asked.
She looked at me then and my heart skipped several beats. Her irises were like sunlight on a gorgeous golden-green pond.
"You haven't answered my question yet," I said.
"What question?"
"Are the burned muffins your fault or theirs?"
She looked around her. “Truthfully?”
I smiled slowly. “You’re going to say it’s my fault, aren’t you?”
She looked deep into my eyes. “It’s been your fault from the first moment I laid eyes on you, Cole Swift.”
"I-," I began.
"Hello, hello, Mr. Swift," a woman’s voice called. I turned. It was the woman I’d met from last time, although I could no longer remember her name.
"Hey," I said and nodded to the five other moms behind her who were advancing quickly upon us.
It looked, smelled, and felt like an ambush so I winked at Montana, snatched my little girl's mud-covered hand, and began to walk away.
"I need to find a tap for Anya to wash her hands, so I’ll catch up with you guys soon?"
Without waiting for their response, I was out of there, dragging my kid with me.
Chapter 36
Montana
I had no doubt in my mind that I was going to catch all the daggers and criticism for seemingly being the only one Cole had talked to and dashed off after. And it didn’t take long at all for me to feel the first stab.