Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“It’s just cereal, but it’ll get him through until lunch.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” she announces as she wraps her arms around me and hugs me tight. “Thank you. I’ll throw your lunch together, buddy.”
“Can I get hot lunch today? It’s pizza day.”
“Even better,” I say with a wide grin. “Pizza day.”
“That works,” she says with a nod. She looks frantically around, like she’s searching for something.
“What do you need?”
“Coffee. For God’s sake, I need coffee.”
“Already poured.” I pass her the mug and watch as her glazed eyes fixate on the liquid, and she pulls it to her lips, taking a long sip.
“I might marry you after all,” she decides as she sighs. Then her eyes widen in horror. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know what you meant.” I pat her shoulder as Caleb stops eating his cereal and watches us with serious eyes.
“Are you getting married?”
“No, buddy,” London replies and kisses his head. “Are you about done?”
“Why don’t you want to marry my mom?” he demands. “She’s a catch. And she’s nice. And she makes really good cookies.”
“All good reasons to get married,” I agree, nodding. “But she was just kidding. That’s all.”
“Adults are weird,” he decides and jumps down to go get his shoes on.
“Thank you,” London says as she grabs her handbag and her computer bag. “You can let yourself out if you want.”
“I’ll leave with you. I can walk around to my car. And London?”
“Yeah?”
“You really are a catch.”
Chapter 8
London
“It’s November,” Caleb points out as I yank a tub of holiday décor out of the attic. “Why are we doing this so early?”
“I like Christmas.” I blow a strand of hair out of my eyes and pass my son a wreath. “Put that by the stairs. It goes on the front door.”
“Last year, you had a whole company come to the house to decorate.”
“And they’re coming again this year because I can’t reach the high stuff without a ladder, and I’m afraid of heights. But there’s some stuff that we should do ourselves because it’s fun, and you and I have some traditions.”
“Like making the popcorn strings that go on the tree.”
“Yes. But you eat most of the popcorn.”
He grins at me. “It’s delicious. Are we doing that tonight?”
“No, that has to be done closer to the holiday, but don’t worry, I won’t forget.”
“I know.” He sounds completely unconcerned. “You don’t forget anything, even the stuff I wish you would forget.”
I chuckle and pull out the last box for today, then close the door behind me, and we make our way to the stairs leading to the first floor.
“I’m going to scoot the heavy ones down the stairs behind me,” I inform him. “Take that wreath and head down. I don’t want to trip over you.”
“Don’t fall and break your face,” he advises, his own face perfectly serious.
“Thanks, I’ll do my best.”
I’ve made it halfway down when the doorbell rings.
“I got it!” Caleb yells and runs for the door.
“Ask who it is!”
I hear my son sigh and then say, “Who is it?”
I can’t hear the answer, but it must satisfy Caleb because he opens the door.
“What the hell?” Drew hurries over to me and takes the heavy weight of the tote off my back. “What are you doing?”
“Bringing Christmas decorations down from the attic. But the question is, what are you doing?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” he replies after setting the first tote on the floor. “Are there more?”
“Two more at the top of the stairs.”
Drew immediately climbs the steps, two at a time, and before I know it, he’s lugged both of the totes downstairs.
“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
“They’re heavy,” he says, barely winded. “You could have broken your back.”
“Or your face,” Caleb chimes in helpfully.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” I say, ignoring their lack of confidence in me to do manual labor, “but what are you doing?”
“I thought I’d come see what you’re up to,” he says and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Probably should have called first, huh?”
“No, I don’t mind if you want to come over. You’re welcome anytime. It just surprised me, that’s all.”
“I told Mom that it’s too early for Christmas stuff,” Caleb says. “Do you have yours up?”
“I don’t know that I’ll put anything up this year,” Drew replies.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Caleb wants to know, looking slightly mortified at the thought of no Christmas decorations.
“Well, I just moved into my condo this year, and I haven’t really thought about decorating it for the holidays.”
“You have to at least have a tree,” my son insists. “We will have five of them.”
Drew’s eyes fly to mine in surprise. “Five trees?”
“It’s a big house,” I remind him. “We have one in the game room, with all the gaming ornaments Caleb has collected over the years.”
“I get two new ones every year.”