Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“I’ve been eating out all week long,” I tell him. “I just want a nice home-cooked meal.”
“Fine,” he agrees, stepping to me, “but the minute I say switch.” He grabs her under her arms, bringing her to him awkwardly. “We switch.”
“Like in wrestling?” I ask, walking to the sink and washing my own hands. “Are you hungry?” I ask as I walk over to the fridge.
“I haven’t eaten since I grabbed a sandwich at the airport,” he admits as he holds Cici to his chest, moving side to side, bouncing up and down.
“So how was your week?” I ask as I open the fridge, grabbing a red and yellow pepper, an onion, and the Italian sausage. Placing it on the counter beside the cutting board, I turn to grab a couple of potatoes.
“It was uneventful,” he says to me as Cici squirms in his arms. “I think we might have to switch.” He looks at me, then down at Cici.
“Why don’t you go over there?” I point toward the floor mat. “She likes to play with the square toy.” I point at the toy in the middle of the mat. “She doesn’t sit up too well on her own, but she can sit in the middle of your legs.”
“Okay,” he replies, walking over to the mat and trying to decide how he’s going to sit down with Cici. I peel the potatoes the whole time, looking over to see Levi.
“We got this,” he assures Cici. “Maybe we don’t got this,” he recants as he gets to his knees, “but we are going to try.” I can’t help but smile as I dice the potatoes and place them in a pot of water before walking back over to where the peppers and onion are as I slice them. “We did it.” I hear Levi say and look over to see him smiling down at Cici as she sits in the middle of his legs. He reaches forward to grab the square activity toy that she loves. She smacks her hands down on the square before reaching out and grabbing the side of one square, as she presses the button. “That’s red,” he tells her and I can’t help but smile. “What’s that sound?” he asks gently. “That’s a cow.”
I turn around and grab a pan, placing it on the stove and then adding olive oil to it. I look over again to make sure he’s okay. I see Cici look up at him as he tells her all the colors on the square toy. He could literally be reciting the phone book and she would be interested in him. I turn back, tossing the peppers and onions in the pan before grabbing the knife and slicing the sausage. I’m beyond exhausted, the past week has been crazy almost twenty-hour days. After working at the salon all day long, I would rush over to Lisa’s place, and every night I would put Cici in her bed while I would work through packing up her place. Usually she slept the night, but then she would wake up crying and calling out for Mama. I didn’t know if sleeping in the house made her think Lisa was going to be there or not. I debated not sleeping there, but I wanted to get it over with.
I know I should have gotten someone to do it. Everyone I know told me the same thing over and over again, but I just felt like I needed to do it. I had to do it for her and for Cici. The hardest thing I ever did was going through her clothes. Packing her stuff, I did put a box aside for Cici for when she got older. It was the outfit she wore when she was christened, knowing that the pictures would be forever in her room. The outfit she would always be in, and the minute I saw it, it took me an hour to pick myself up off the floor. All her jewelry is put aside, waiting for me to find the time to open a safety-deposit box for when Cici wants it. There is no way I can chance losing that.
I thought cleaning out her clothes was hard. It was nothing like cleaning out her bedside night tables. You don’t know what you keep in there, but Lisa had pictures of the three of us in there. She even had a picture of our mother. She had so many little books stacked in one drawer, I thought they were books until I picked up one and it fell to the floor. It was as if someone knocked it out of my hand. When I bent over to pick it up, I saw that it was a journal. Lisa’s journal, the date entry at the top. My eyes roamed the page for a good couple of minutes before I shut it. There must have been over twenty of them in the drawer and another box full. They were also going in the safety-deposit box for Cici. When she was old enough, I would give her the key and she could do what she wanted with them.