Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“This was so cool,” he says. Sitting on my lap, he grabs a french fry from the plate in front of me. Then he grabs the hot dog and bites into it. “I’m ready,” he says with a mouthful of hot dog as he rubs his dirty hands on his pants. Getting off my lap, he jumps in one spot. “I get a new house.”
“You do, my boy,” my father says. Getting up, he picks Aiden up and kisses his cheek. “Let’s go get the keys, and we can go,” he says. Walking away from us, they leave my mother and me alone.
“What’s wrong?” she asks me when my father is out of earshot. “You have looked like someone stole your puppy for the last hour.”
I just shake my head. “Nothing. Just thinking about everything that I have to do. I keep wondering if moving back was a good idea,” I lie to her.
“I think it’s very important for Aiden to grow up surrounded by family,” she says. Walking over to me, she hugs my shoulders and turns to walk back to the house. “Plus, it gives your father a reason to spend money.” She laughs, and Aiden comes out of the house with my father following him.
“I’ll follow in my car,” my mother says to my father and Aiden. “Then we can leave her the car till she gets her own.” She smiles at me. I would argue, but my parents can’t be persuaded this time. We walk outside, and Aiden gets into my father’s Range Rover, and I get in my mother’s car. I put my seat belt on, and I look out the window and then back at my mother. She is the best friend I have; all my other friends drifted when I moved to Paris, and well, now we are all in different stages in our lives.
“I have to tell you something,” I say, and she looks over at me, “but you have to swear you won’t tell anyone, not even Dad.” I look at her, and her smile from a second ago turns into a frown.
“Eliahn Coco!” she yells my name frantically. “The last time you said those words, you were pregnant,” she huffs out as she follows my father, looking at the road and then back at me again. “I swear to—”
“I’m not pregnant,” I tell her, laughing, and her face changes right away. “I swear.”
She smiles now, and her tone goes softer. “Not that I don’t love that little boy.”
I lean over, grabbing her hand from her leg and squeezing it. “I know, Mom.”
She squeezes my hand back. “So what am I swearing to secrecy for?” she asks, and we come to a red light. I drop her hand, and she puts both hands on the steering wheel.
I try to think of how to say it, but nothing can make this better. “Aiden’s dad was at the barbecue,” I say. Her head whips around to me, and she sits there with her mouth open. She closes her mouth and then opens it again, and I’m not sure if words were supposed to come out that time or not. And now the sound of honking startles her, and she proceeds to drive. But then she pulls over in the next parking lot. I look around and see that it’s for a dry cleaner.
She unclips her seat belt and takes off her glasses and rubs her face before turning in her seat to look at me. “I suggest you start from the beginning.”
“I mean, there really is no beginning. I was standing there enjoying the day, and then we were face-to-face. I was just as shocked as he was when we were introduced,” I tell her and then look down and then up at her, wringing my fingers together. “And then Aiden came,” I say, and my heart skips a beat. “I held my breath the whole time. I thought I was going to barf on his shoes. I knew he would know Aiden was his right away.” I put my head back and close my eyes. “And he did.” Turning, I look at her again.
“Who is it?” she asks.
I look out the window and take a second before I tell her. “Luca.” The name comes out as more of a whisper than anything else.
Her head goes back, and she looks out of the car with a confused look on her face, and she turns back to me. “The only Luca I know is the one who works for your fa—” She stops talking when I nod my head. “But that,” she starts to stutter, “I mean. He.” And her hands fly to her mouth. “The eyes.” She finally puts it together.
“Yup,” I finally say, turning to look out the window. “That would be him.”