Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“How can you not be bleeding?” I ask in confusion. “You fell onto a glass table!” I think Rose bought that table at some fancy antique store in New York, but I know my sister and she won’t care about the table as much as her son and nephew.
“Technically, Ben pushed me,” Xander says, patting Erebor’s belly.
“Whaaaat?” My eyes grow to saucers. That piece of information was not in the briefing he gave me a minute ago. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t be a PI.
Kinney sits on the couch’s armrest, her arms threading over her chest. She's wearing a baggie black tee and cotton shorts after I told her she needed to change out of her "party" outfit before Lo got home.
“That’s not exactly what I saw," she says.
Xander’s brows furrow in confusion.
Kinney winces. “Or maybe Ben did push him. Maybe I didn’t see the whole thing. Ben is a giant. He’s one beard and flannel away from being Paul Bunyan, Mom.”
“Thatcher and Banks are taller,” Xander mutters. “And Thatcher actually wears flannels.”
“And you don’t see him coming at you,” Kinney states like it all makes sense, but she has just flip-flopped her story. My Spidey-senses are tingling.
The oven beeps. Shit. I hope those weren’t “cookie senses” tingling. “This conversation is not over,” I point to each of them and scurry to the kitchen. I hurriedly remove the cookies before I’ve burned them. They’re the sugar cookie cutouts from the grocery store. The kinds with seasonal shapes that cannot be resisted. These have little snowflakes on them.
I whirl around and see Kinney and Xander have followed me into the kitchen like I’m a magnetic pole they can’t get away from. They’re not even looking at me and completely focused on their own conversation—yet, they followed me here.
“Maybe we fell on it together or something. It all happened pretty fast,” Xander says while Erebor circles his feet in affection for treats or more pets or both.
“If you think he pushed you, then he probably pushed you.”
“But you didn’t see it?” Xander questions.
“I did,” Kinney retorts, her cheeks roasting in the lie. “It was a flash, a blur.”
Xander grimaces. “Yeah, right.”
“Ben sucks,” Kinney says.
“Hey,” I jump in with a frown. “Your cousin doesn’t suck. We all love Ben. We all love Xander.”
Kinney gawks. “He’s not as cool as Xander, okay? Xander is awesome, and Ben sucks for starting that stupid fight in the first place.”
“Maybe I started it, Kin,” Xander says, his neck reddening now.
“You were trying to stop him from opening the door,” Kinney says flatly. “I didn’t want those trolls inside Aunt Rose’s either.”
I haven’t blinked in a full minute, devouring these new details at rapid speed. If the cookies weren’t so hot, I would be eating them too.
“We were wrestling each other,” Xander says, going to the fridge. “That happened, I know that happened.”
“Wrestling?” I cut in and turn off the oven. “Since when do you wrestle? Is this an MMA thing?”
“No,” Xander groans. “Not an MMA thing. Ben wanted to go help Winona outside, but by opening the door, he was about to let a bunch of assholes from Dalton into his house.”
Kinney says, “Xander was trying to protect Vada and Audrey.”
“And you,” Xander mumbles.
“I was fine.” Kinney shrugs and lifts her chin. “I’m scared of nothing.” I suddenly hear her as a toddler, telling me very seriously, “I’m scared of nothin’ in the world.” My heart pangs at the long-ago memory.
They grow up so fast.
But I still see remnants of who they were inside of who they’re becoming, and I’m happy to be able to witness their growth into teenage-hood. For as long as they’ll let me have a front row seat, I’ll be there.
“Why did Ben want outside so badly?” I ask them.
“He was trying to protect Winona,” Xander says, his eyes softened in gratitude at Kinney for taking his side. She nods to him, and he turns back to me to add, “It felt like he was doing it at the expense of everyone else, and I was just trying to stop it. That’s all.” He shuts the fridge, a can of Sprite in hand, and as he pops the tab, he looks to me for my opinion.
Oookaay. I nod diplomatically like this all makes perfect sense, but I’m guessing that unless I have a video of the event, I’m not going to know the exact details of what took place. Kinney will cover for Xander, and Xander is having a harder time recalling the fast-paced fight.
Could my son have started it? Maybe. I don’t want to make excuses for him just because I birthed him…on Christmas. At the end of the day, they both still threw a party at their aunt and uncle’s house without telling any parent, and I know high school—alcohol was likely involved.