Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 114(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
I grab the salsa out of the fridge and pour it into another bowl as my blood pressure starts to rise.
There are people all over my kitchen and it’s hard to move.
“Any pervert can be hiding in the bushes, jacking off.”
“Mom!” I shout. “Please don’t say jacking off.”
“Yeah, I agree with Fiona,” my cousin Dana says as she grabs a nacho. “You should say jerking off. It’s more polite.”
“Can you guys please not?” I say as I check on the spaghetti sauce. Shit, it’s bubbling. “There are kids running around.”
Right on cue, my adorable five-year-old Lucas comes barreling into the kitchen with four of his younger cousins following him in a line. They’re all shouting as loud as they can for some reason.
“Nope!” I say as I grab his little shoulders and guide the crazy train into the living room. “There’s hot things in here!”
“Oh, speaking of hot things,” my cousin Caitlin says. “I met a guy!”
“Another one?” my oldest brother Marc asks as he reaches over her shoulder to grab a piece of cheese off the platter.
“Yeah, but this one is hot hot. I’m talking habanero!”
I rush over to the fridge and grab the salad.
“Promise me you’ll get curtains for these windows,” Mom says as I take the plastic wrap off the bowl and desperately look for the salad dressing in the cupboard.
“I promise!” I say, trying to get her off my back. I grab the platter of veggies and thrust them into her hands. “Can you please bring these into the living room for the guys?”
She grumbles as she takes another look at my bare window and then leaves with the veggies.
Hosting my family is always crazy. I have my parents, my oldest brother with his wife and three teenage daughters, my middle brother and his new girlfriend Kelly, my aunt, two of my cousins and their kids, and a few other stragglers who never seem to get invited but always show up.
It’s always fun to be together and I love having a family atmosphere for Lucas, but it’s exhausting when you’re hosting all by yourself. Plus, it doesn’t help that we’re all crammed into my tiny townhouse.
“Fiona!” my brother Ryan yells from the other room as I’m looking for the salad dressing. Where the fuck is it? Shit, did I forget to buy some? “Fiona!”
“What?!” I snap as I shove my head into the room.
All the men are sitting on the couch—my dad, my brothers, my cousins. When the hell did the human race decide that men can relax in the living room while the women are in the kitchen doing all the work? I know I didn’t get a vote on the matter. I’d like a revote! This is bullshit.
“How do you turn on the TV?” Ryan asks. “We want to watch the hockey game?”
“You see that big red button that says Power?” I say sarcastically. “Try pushing it with your finger. Can you handle that or do I have to do it for you?”
“I pushed it already,” he says, rolling his eyes. “The screen just goes black.”
“Ugh!” I say as I rush over and yank it out of his hands. It’s crazy how adults can just fall back into their childhood sibling roles so easily. “You have to turn the cable box on too.”
I set them up and put the hockey game on. My breath is caught in my chest until I see that the Hammerheads are playing the Lumberjacks, and then I exhale.
I didn’t want to see the Hyenas on the screen. Not tonight.
“Thanks, sis,” Ryan says in a sarcastic tone as I throw the remote back at him.
Shit, what was I doing? Oh, right! The salad dressing.
It’s in the garage! Yes!
I hurry into the garage, winding past all of the bodies in my house, and close the door.
It’s heavenly in here. I take a deep breath and enjoy the quiet for a second before I head over to the shelf and grab the Costco-sized Italian salad dressing.
“Fiona!” my sister-in-law Carrie says as she opens the door. “Where were you? I’ve been looking for you for the past five minutes.”
“I’ve literally been gone for twenty seconds,” I say with a huff. “What is it?”
“Lucas cut himself. He needs a bandaid.”
“Oh, crap.” I dump the salad dressing into her hands. “Can you set up the salad for me?”
I hurry past her, not waiting for an answer, and find my crying boy in the bathroom.
“What happened?” I ask as I close the door behind me and kneel in front of him.
He’s sitting on the closed toilet, trying not to cry.
Every time I see him, my heart aches. You’d understand if you met Lucas. He’s the most adorable kid with the sweetest temperament. He has these big thick glasses that make his brown eyes look enormous and his black hair is always a mess no matter how many times I comb it. He has hearing aids on both ears and a heart so big it will bring tears to your eyes.