Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Awwww.” Complaints were heard as the kids stomped up the stairs.
“No fairs!” Viera said at the top.
Colby and I both said back in unison, “Fair. It’s no fair,” then shared a look, our hands colliding across Licorice Lagoon.
Our fingers barely grazed, but she didn’t pull back—neither did I. The room got smaller, my ability to breathe was nonexistent. Something was shifting, not just between us but with the entire family dynamic.
As if suddenly this was real.
It had felt like we were playing house, and doing it all wrong, but now it felt… right. It felt like everything I’d ever wanted with the least likely person by my side.
“Uncle Rip!” Viera wailed from the top of the stairs. “Stu pooped in my room!”
“Damn it, Stu.” I grunted and jumped to my feet. “He knows he has a litter box, right?”
“Ben,” Colby called up. “Did you close the laundry room door again?”
Tense quiet and then, “Maybe.”
“Then you clean the poop!” she called. “Stu needs access to his box, buddy.”
“Aww, man.” Grumble, grumble. “I hate cat poop.”
“Then keep the door open, sweetie.” Colby grinned and turned to me. Our hands were no longer touching, but I had this sudden urge to just toss everything from the board and tackle her to the ground.
Over cat poop?
Good parenting?
The fact that her cheeks were still flushed from earlier?
“Colby.” My voice cracked. “I’m—”
“—Uncle Rip, I need help.” Ben suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. “I forget how to clean.”
Colby sighed. “Just like he forgot how to put on his pants because he didn’t want to go to school.”
I sighed and got to my feet. “Exactly.”
“I’ll clean up.” Colby shrugged. “We should go to bed anyway.”
Yeah, we should.
I almost voiced it out loud.
What the hell was she doing to me?
“Y-yeah. You’re right…”
“Uncle Rip.” Ben waved a hand in front of my face. “Are you OK? You’re smiling really hard at your coffee.”
“That’s because Uncle Rip loves his coffee.” Colby was a walking zombie and looked over at me like she was plotting something.
I chuckled again.
“Maybe he marry it,” Viera said loudly, causing me to start choking.
“His coffee?” Ben made a face. “Eww, everyone knows you marry a person, duh.”
“You mean!” Viera stuck out her tongue.
I continued sipping my coffee and caught the gross little dragon Viera favored with my right hand as Ben threw it at her head. “No toys at the table,” I reminded them.
“Uhhhh, that’s not fair! She gets her dragon, but I can’t have my Legos?”
I made a grand show of setting the dragon on the chair so it wasn’t actually at the table, then felt the need to tell him Legos were totally different.
Colby and I were convinced they weren’t toys but a government experiment to see how small and painful to step on it could make them before you decided to burn them all.
“Though…,” I added. “Technically a stuffed animal is more or less like a blanket you carry to make you feel better.”
“My Legos make me feel better.” He chomped on a bite of Cheerios as milk dripped down his chin.
Touché.
Colby gave me a look that basically said, Don’t you dare give in, even though he’s super cute.
I smiled.
Her cheeks went bright pink, and I found that I had a really hard time looking away—that is, until Viera let out a shriek. “SPIDER!”
Colby immediately went into action. “Where’s the little bastard?”
“Swear jar!” Ben singsonged.
“Th-here!” Viera jabbed her finger in my direction.
I froze and pointed at myself. “On me?”
“By yours feets!” Viera wailed. “Right in the middle.”
“It’s frozen in fear.” Colby nodded, a crazed look in her blue eyes. “I’m killing it.”
“Just don’t kill me,” I reminded her. “Remember, your survival depends on my ability to breathe.”
“What makes you say that?” Colby said as she grabbed a magazine and rolled it up, then started to slowly make her way toward me.
“Two kids. One parent. You tell me,” I whispered.
“Fair point.” She raised the magazine and smacked it down between my legs and looked up at me triumphantly. “Dead.”
“No it’s not,” I said.
“Huh? What?”
“It’s on your arm.” I pointed.
“Then get it off!” she wailed, shaking both arms in the air like she was going to take flight. “Rip!”
“Stop moving!” I grabbed her right arm and swatted the spider away. Ben grabbed a yellow Lego and took care of the rest. “Always knew Legos killed.”
“Now we have proof,” Colby whispered, her voice quivering.
I hadn’t realized we were so close until she spoke, until I looked down and noticed I was holding her and she wasn’t pulling away. Just like the night before.
“Sorry.” She licked her lips but didn’t move other than that, just stared up at me, eyes searching.
“At least we both survived.” My voice was deep, like I was minutes away from growling and carrying her upstairs over my shoulder, then slamming the door and announcing, Mine!