Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84930 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“She’s so fucking adorable.”
I glance over at him. “Yeah, isn’t she?”
“Looks just like me, obviously.”
Yes, she does.
It hurts my heart sometimes at how she looks like him so much. Every day is a reminder…
Once she reaches us, her little rear weasels itself between us, legs kicking back and forth since they don’t touch the ground.
“Good job, buddy,” Jack tells her.
“Thanks.” She’s already digging into the pasta salad, a colorful combination of red, green, and beige spiral noodles. “Mom, did you make this?”
“No, honey, I made the potato salad.”
Skipper rolls her eyes. “You always make potato salad.”
That has me laughing. “Well, it’s one of the only decent picnic things I know how to make.”
Cut me some slack, kid.
“I’m good at making cake,” she tells Jack. “And also spaghetti.”
He nods approvingly. “I love spaghetti. It’s my all-time favorite.”
“Mom, can I make Jack spaghetti?”
“Sure, sweetheart.”
She stands.
“Not right now.”
She sits, defeated. “When can I?”
Jack laughs. “Another time, squirt. I have to leave tonight and head back home. I live in Colorado. Do you know where that is?”
“Nope.”
He holds his hand out sideways as if it were a map of the United States, pointing near the base of his thumb.
“We’re here right now, and I live…”—he drags his finger toward the center of his hand—“right about here. See how far that is?”
“Yes, about two inches,” Skipper declares matter-of-factly, happy to know this information.
“I have to take an airplane to get there.”
Skipper nods. “I like plane rides, especially ones that take me to Disney.”
“Have you ever been to Disney?”
“No, but I want to.”
Jack seems to be making mental notes, nodding along as she prattles on.
“And I want to see the Statue of Liberty and be Rainbow Dash for Halloween… do you know who that is?” She eyes him skeptically.
“Er, no.”
She points at the horse on her shoe with the flowing rainbow mane. “This is Rainbow Dash.”
“Ah, I see.”
“And I love jelly beans and don’t really play with Barbies, and I wish we had a pool and a dog.” She gives him a pointed look. “A dog like Kevin.”
“Ah yes, Kevin,” Jack intones. “He’s at a dog park right now playing fetch with his babysitter.”
“It’s so funny that he has a babysitter,” she says, giggling.
“Well—I say babysitter, but it’s actually a dog sitter, but they do the same basic thing.”
“Because Kevin is your child.”
Jack shoots me a look over her head. “Um, exactly.”
“A dog can’t be your child. Only a child can be a child.”
He nods. “You’re very wise.”
“Thank you.” She bites into the brownie from her plate and closes her brown eyes. “This is delicious. Not as good as cake, but delicious.” Her eyes pop back open. “Did you see me on the slide before?”
“No, I only just got here.”
Skipper hands me her plate. “I want to show you my tricks. Pay attention.”
Off she goes to razzle and dazzle him with her theatrics, hanging upside down from the rings hanging off the swing set and climbing up the slide only to go down it again. Crosses the monkey bars, drops to the ground, then makes a show of crossing them again, skipping a bar this time.
Her eyes are trained on Jack to make sure he’s watching.
“I wonder if she’ll be an actress. She seems to love an audience.”
I chuckle, biting down on my fruit. “She’s not always like this. She’s showing off for her new buddy.”
“New buddy—ha.”
The unspoken idea of introducing him as her father lingers above us like a heavy storm cloud, neither of us willing to say the words out loud but knowing they’re not going away.
When are we going to tell her?
How are we going to tell her?
What will she say?
What will she say? I know she’s going to be ecstatic, but that by no stretch of the imagination means we’re going to simply blurt it out willy-nilly. There is a time and a place for everything, and this is the most delicate conversation I’ll ever have had to make.
Had I had the conversation with Jack about being pregnant? That would have been it.
But I hadn’t.
I had hid like a coward.
Skipper gallops around the yard, neighing like a horse, much to the amusement of everyone in the backyard.
My brother shouts, egging her on. “Giddyap, little horsey!”
“I’m a pony!” Duh.
Davis strolls over. I know he’s been biding his time and giving us privacy and the time to…adjust to being in public together. Must have been driving him crazy to mind his own business.
I wouldn’t say my brother is a busybody, but he certainly isn’t one for holding back his opinion—not where his niece or I am involved.
His hand is already out, ready for a handshake. “Jennings, glad you could make it.”
Jack stands, wiping his hands on the leg of his jeans. “Thanks for inviting me. I get to see what a little ham-bone Skipper is.”