Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“She loves rolls,” Atlas said. “I paid her in rolls last week when she helped me watch the kids for a bit.”
I felt my heart get so full it might burst.
I loved this family.
They were all so freakin’ welcoming it was overwhelming.
Tears formed in my eyes, and a soft, tiny hand curled around my hair from behind and said, “Aunt Pepper, do you think you could make me a wig out of Aunt Bindi’s hair?”
“No, Catherine,” Shayne tittered. “Because Aunt Bindi wants her hair.”
“I do,” I admitted. “But I might consider growing it out and then cutting it later.”
“Ohh,” Catherine said. “Please?”
“Sure.” I shrugged. “But it might take a while. My hair grows really slow.”
“It really does,” Mom admitted. “As a kid, she had straight as a board hair. But one day I cut her hair because it was getting too long. And the next day it turned curly. Then it took her four more years to grow hair past her shoulders.”
“That’s a bummer,” a young boy’s voice called out. “My hair grows so fast. I can’t wait to have testicle hair!”
There was a moment of silence and then Ande said, “Tex, honey. Those are the types of things that you keep to yourself.”
“But then how will you know that I want ball hair like Daddy?” Tex asked.
There was a groan, which I assumed belonged to Keene, Ande’s husband.
“Yes, sister.” Garrett laughed. “How will we know if he doesn’t tell us?”
“Hey, Bindi. Did you know that when Garrett was younger, he got caught buying a penis pump online because he wanted to impress his locker room buddies?” Ande asked sweetly.
Garrett sighed from beside me.
“He must’ve grown a lot since he was younger, because he has no reason for a penis pump right now,” I said, then winced.
“Sweet Mary, Mother of God,” I heard my dad call. “Honey, these are the types of things you keep to yourself.”
Garrett chuckled and caught me up with an arm around my shoulders, pulling me toward him.
He kissed me on the forehead, then leaned in to whisper, “Your plate’s in front of you. You have a fork on your right, a spoon and knife on your left.”
“That’s backward,” I pointed out.
“I know, but we let the kids set the table. They do what they want.”
“What would you like to drink?” Catherine asked, who was on my other side.
“I’d like whatever you’re having,” I suggested.
“No,” Shayne quickly dissuaded me. “She drinks suicides. I think she added tea, Kool-Aid, and cream soda to hers.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Okay, then, how about just sweet tea?”
“Excellent choice,” Catherine said. “Aunt Ellodie made it, so you know it’s going to be good. It tastes like shit when Uncle Quaid makes it.”
“Hey!” Quaid whined. “I thought you loved me, Catherine?”
“Just because I love you doesn’t mean that I’ll lie about your sweet tea,” Catherine countered, her voice fading out as she left the room.
“She’s got you there, bro,” Gable called. “Your tea does suck.”
“Well, if it sucks, it’s because Mom taught me how to make it,” Quaid countered.
“Boys,” Germaine hollered. “Everyone dig in.”
Garrett tapped my thigh and said, “Your drink is to the left of your plate.”
I smiled and dug in, finding the first bite to be macaroni.
“Mom,” I heard another child say. “I want to eat with my hands, too!”
“You can’t,” Auden countered. “You’re not special like Bindi. She has to feel her food to see.”
I smiled and took another bite, this time of sweet potato casserole.
Everything was fantastic, but by far my favorite were my mom’s mashed potatoes.
She had yet to pass the recipe down to me, stating I’d get it when she died.
I then asked for seconds, hearing a lot of the kids parroting my sentiments.
“Here, try this,” I heard a kid say as she moved toward me and squeaked in between Garrett and me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s a roll with mashed potatoes on it,” Garrett whispered when the kid disappeared. “That was Cilian. Quinn and Shayne’s adopted son. I watched him make it. He used a plate and everything.”
I laughed and reached for the roll with mashed potatoes on it, then took a healthy bite.
I wasn’t a person who shied away from trying new things, and this sounded right up my alley.
I was right, too. The two paired together were fantastic.
“Yum,” I said. “Cilian, can you make me more?”
The body was back within a minute and he said, “It’s on your plate next to the green beans you didn’t like.”
Everyone laughed at that, and I ate my roll, my extra mashed potatoes, and then my mashed potato-filled rolls.
By the time I cleaned my plate, I was stuffed.
“Oh my god.” I groaned as I leaned back in my seat. “I don’t think I can eat another thing.”
“You better have saved room for dessert,” Maven countered. “And those pies your mom made looked fantastic.”