Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“He’s good at a lot of things,” I reply with a nod.
“Then why do you keep leaving him here to fend for himself?” Remington counters, speaking for the first time.
“Rem—” Mom starts, but I lift my hand and hold my gaze on my older brother’s.
“What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Someone has to go stay with your amazing kid constantly because you’re out of town. Can’t be bothered to stay home and take care of your responsibilities. Which is pretty typical for you, but now you have someone else to take care of.”
“You’re out of line,” Brady begins, and I shake my head.
“Does my kid look like he’s low on attention or confidence or love?” I ask Remington and feel the proverbial knife twist in my back the way it always does whenever Rem decides to take some shots at me. Which is pretty much always.
The rest of the table has quieted, their gazes moving between us.
“I think he deserves better,” Rem replies. “Sure, you can give him all the money in the world and a nice house, but you’re never here. When you are here, you’re in your office.”
“You don’t know what I do or when because you don’t fucking talk to me,” I counter. “I’m the villain in your story, end of. I spend a lot of freaking time with Jake. Besides, it feels pretty hypocritical for you to throw this in my face when it wasn’t all that long ago that your kids spent more time with Mom than they did with you because you were too busy running a goddamn ranch.”
“Don’t fucking start—” Rem’s voice has raised when Dad stands and slams his hands on the table.
“Enough!” His face is red as he stares at both of us, disappointment written all over his face. “I’ve had it up to my goddamn eyeballs with the two of you swiping at each other. I don’t care how old you are, I won’t have it. You’re both excellent fathers, both run good, loving homes, and you’ll shut your mouths on the subject.”
“I love my kid,” I say, my voice calm again. “More than anything. If you have a problem with the way I parent him, you can come to me in private, and we’ll have a conversation.”
Rem’s eyes narrow on me, but he doesn’t say anything in reply, and finally, Erin stands and says, “Who wants some pie?”
“I do,” Millie says. “Let me help you cut it.”
“I’ll open a bottle of wine,” Mom says as Summer stands to join them. “God knows I need it.”
When the women are out of the room, Brady sighs loudly. Chase shakes his head.
Dad continues to glare at us.
“I’ve told you,” I begin, speaking to Rem, “that I’m sorry for what went down after Holly was born. I didn’t handle it well, and I wasn’t there for you the way you needed me to be, and I can’t go back and change it. I would pay every goddamn penny I own if I could.”
Rem smirks, but I keep talking.
“I regret it every day. It’s the only thing in my life that I regret. But I can’t fix it. All I can do is continue to apologize, even though you won’t accept it, and be here. I have a life here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Unless the mood strikes, and you get on your fancy plane.”
“I have a job.” My voice is weary now. “And that takes me away for a few days at a time. And yeah, I took a vacation, for the first time in my adult life, with a woman that means a lot to me. Jake understands. The family has helped me immensely.”
“He hasn’t done anything wrong,” Chase says, speaking up. “And just like you, he’s doing the best that he can.”
“We all are,” Brady puts in. “And if you think there’s even one of us who minds helping out, or who wouldn’t do the same for you, you’re an idiot.”
Rem sighs and drags his hand down his face. “I apologize for saying what I did in front of others.”
And that’s the only apology I’m going to get.
“Fine.”
Dad sits as the girls return and set dessert on the table, and I can hear Erin calling out the back door for the kids to come in and get their share.
When we’re finished eating, Summer and I offer to clean up the kitchen since we didn’t help cook, and I take on the task of rinsing dishes and passing them to Summer to be placed in the dishwasher.
“I haven’t heard from her in days.”
Summer sighs. She doesn’t have to ask who I’m talking about. Polly is her best friend, and we both know it.
“She walked into a mess when she got home.”
“She said something about that.” I pass her a salad bowl. “But she hasn’t even texted back. You said something at the table about her being tired, but you were going to say something else.”