Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I had no clue why I’d taken the stairs, but when I took a seat beside the man that was sitting at the top waiting for me, I realized that I wasn’t the only one nervous.
“Have they kicked off yet?” I asked hopefully, taking a seat beside my man.
Jessie looked up at me.
“No,” he sighed. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
I couldn’t help it. I threw myself into Jessie’s arms and buried my face into his neck.
His beard tickled my skin, but I didn’t pull back from the death grip I had on him.
“It’ll be okay.”
“Yeah?” I challenged him. “Then why the heck are you in here instead of the box thingy?”
Jessie pushed me back so he could look at me.
“Because this is where you are.”
“Mom!” our two heathens hollered, as they burst through the door at the same time.
“What?” I looked over Jessie’s shoulder at my two girls, my eyes lingering longer on Lydia as I studied her features.
Unless you knew about it, you couldn’t tell that eight years ago she’d been born prematurely with a drug addiction. Now she was a normal, healthy eight-year-old who played soccer and ran so fast sometimes that I was scared she’d hurt herself.
“Laura threw her hotdog down into the bleachers, and she ate mine while I was using the bathroom.”
I dropped my forehead down onto Jessie’s shoulder.
“They’re your kids,” I said. “You deal with it. I’m going to sit right here and try not to freak the hell out.”
He started a rumbling chuckle, and then I found myself moving through the air despite my desire to stay exactly where I was.
“I don’t want to go,” I moaned.
Jessie ignored me.
“You’d be devastated if you didn’t get to watch Linc win his first ever Super Bowl,” Jessie countered.
I sighed.
“You’re right.”
And I would’ve been.
Approximately four hours later, I was staring at Linc’s face on the Jumbotron as he accepted the Vince Lombardi Trophy with a wide smile on his face.
“Who do you want to thank for all of your success, Linc?”
Linc looked up at the box. Though he couldn’t see us, he knew we were there.
“My dad for catching hundreds and hundreds of passes so I could hone my skills…and my step-mom for pushing me to always be a better person, even when I didn’t want to be. I don’t know if I’d be here right now if they didn’t believe in me.”
A sob caught in my throat.
“Well, fuck me in the ass,” Big Papa said from behind us. “But that boy sure does know how to tug on the heartstrings.”
That’s about when I started to sniffle and snort as tears of happiness started to roll down my cheeks.
“Does she sound like Miss Piggy to you or is that just me?”
I flipped my brother off, then buried my face into my husband’s shoulder and cried while the rest of our friends laughed.
Then I sent him a text message.
Ellen (6:24 PM): I love you.
He replied back within seconds.
Jessie (6:24 PM): I love you, more.