Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
See, we had big plans this summer. Camp began next week, and Smitty was very involved in the program. He’d recruited some of his former players, including Denny and Niall, to help out before they headed off to college.
To kickstart the festivities, we were hosting the second annual Milligan-Paluchek Thin Ice Barbecue at our house tomorrow.
My formerly quiet home was never quiet anymore. We adopted two rescue dogs, ABBA and Ozzie, and a tabby named Princess who had more personality than the average cat. She teased her canine brothers relentlessly—taking over their beds and stealing their toys. Her antics incited mini wars that amused my husband to no end.
Smitty loved a little chaos and noise. Good thing ’cause in six months, our house was about to get a lot noisier.
We were adopting a baby, and we couldn’t be more excited. We’d been paired with a teenage mom who was expecting a boy in November. It was a tenuous process and I didn’t want to get our hopes up prematurely, but…fingers crossed, we’d be bringing our son home in a few months.
I didn’t take this decision lightly. Neither of us did. I’d personally done a lot of soul-searching. I was older now, and I wanted to give this child everything I’d given Jake and still be a good husband to Smitty. It might not always be smooth sailing, but I’d like to think we were ready.
Scratch that, I knew we were ready. Smitty was going to be the best dad in the world. I couldn’t wait to begin that journey with him.
But first, we had some grocery shopping to do.
“I hate to break this to you, Coach, but we have to go to the market. We need…everything. Hamburger meat, buns, potato chips, fruit, veggies for the pasta salad, watermelon—”
“Hot dogs.” Smitty looped his arm around my shoulders and motioned for me to step into the hall while he locked his office door.
I made a yuck face. “Meh.”
“Meh? To hot dogs? Oh, geez. C’mon, you know my hot dogs are the freaking bomb. Add some chili and relish and—”
“No, no. I’ll have a burger.”
“My husband, the anti-hot-dog guy. It ain’t right.” Smitty linked his fingers with mine, groaning playfully as we headed for the exit.
I chuckled, leaning into his side.
This was a familiar dance. The teasing, the sweetness, the touching, the smiles. This was my happy place. This was the life we’d built together. What began on shaky ground and thin ice was now solid, strong, and beautiful. Every day was a gift, and there was always a reason to look forward to tomorrow with this man at my side.