Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Michael comes down the stairs, scooping up Snaps midstep. “Were you yelling for us?”
“Where’s your sister?”
“Well, she told me to tell you that she’s in the bathroom. So she’s in the bathroom.”
He stops at the bottom of the staircase. Despite his wariness of our conversation—and my reaction to their little stunt—the boy is happy. Relieved, almost. At home.
I put a hand on his shoulder and guide him toward the door. “Take a walk with me, son.”
“Oh, well, I was going to head down to the beach and see—”
“That wasn’t a question.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hangs his head and follows me onto the porch.
I scan the yard for Lauren until I finally find her sitting in her car. She looks away moments before we make eye contact and pretends to dig around in her purse.
My chest tightens, squeezing so hard that actual discomfort—pain—settles in my ribs.
As much as the kids shouldn’t have done this, I’m grateful they did. It gives me two weeks to figure this out. Because I have to figure this out.
I’m not losing Lauren.
“Michael,” Lauren yells. “Come get Pops’s insulin if you’re heading over there, please.”
He jogs across the lawn and retrieves a small cooler from his mother. They exchange smiles, and a quick laugh, before Michael races back across the yard.
Lauren avoids my stare the entire time.
“I have to hand it to you, kid,” I say as we make our way toward Dad’s cabin. “I really didn’t see this coming.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, ‘What do you mean’? This. I’ll admit that I’m a little concerned with how well you and your sister pulled this off. I wasn’t the least bit suspicious.”
“Are you mad?”
I sigh. “No. I probably should be, considering it was completely out of line, but I understand that your intentions came from a good place. Even if you were really risking it.”
“Look, I had reservations. I tried to be the voice of reason. But have you ever tried to talk Pops and Maddie out of something when they’re on the same team? It’s impossible.”
I laugh and point at Snaps. “That’s how we got him, remember? Now I have to deal with your mother about it. I was hoping to break the news in a . . . different way.”
Michael laughs too. “Well, the similarities between that situation and this one are pretty striking.”
Just like I figured.
“I know what you’re trying to do, and honestly—I’m glad.”
“Really?” he asks.
“Really. But I need you to keep your expectations in check. All right? And help temper your sister’s . . . enthusiasm. She gets all wishful thinking and—”
“Dad?”
I look at him, our pace slowing.
“We just want two weeks. Two good, fun weeks. If you give us those, we’ll cooperate with whatever you and Mom decide,” he says, a solemn look painted across his face.
“I’m not in the business of negotiating with children who think they’re going to ambush me into complying with their demands. You’ll cooperate either way.” I lift a brow to drive my point home. “But since we’re here and your mom has agreed to stay, I’ll let it slide.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Yeah.
“But if things go sideways and Mom leaves, you’re still going to cooperate. Hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I grab Michael’s arm, avoiding Snaps’s nibble at my fingertips, and pull him back gently. “Hey. Wait.”
He stops on the top step of Dad’s cabin and looks at me over his shoulder.
“You and Mads didn’t say anything to Pops about . . . anything, did you?”
“No.” The corner of his lip pulls into a half smile. “Maddie still thinks everything can be okay.”
“What about you?”
Michael rubs Snaps’s head, holding the puppy close to his chest. Despite his broad shoulders and prominent Adam’s apple, he looks like a kid. My kid. My little boy who shouldn’t be old enough to be having this conversation with me.
“Well, I still think everything could be okay too,” he says, looking me dead in the eye. “But I also think that if you can’t work it out with Mom . . .” He shakes his head. “Look, your life isn’t my business—”
I raise a brow. Oh, the irony.
“I know, I know.” He chuckles. “But whatever you guys decide to do isn’t my business. Or Maddie’s. But I just want to see a smile on Mom’s face again. You know? A real one, not one of those fake things she puts on to convince us everything is fine. She’s a really bad liar.”
My throat squeezes as my son makes me feel as small as a child. At the same time, my heart grows so big that it might explode.
“I do know,” I say, patting him on the shoulder. “And I want that too.”
My God, do I want that too.
He nods, nuzzling Snaps again, and moves across the porch.
“I wondered how long it’d take you to come over here to chew my ass,” Dad says from the other side of the screen door.