Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Yeah, but you have a pair of sweats too to make up for that.” I frowned up at him. “Don’t you know anything about fashion?”
He gave me a look and folded his arms over his chest, but before he could sling back a wisecrack, we heard a blast go off in the distance. It was quickly followed by kids cheering, and I vaguely remembered having heard it before. Only, it hadn’t registered until now. The race must’ve begun.
I waited for the little runners to appear and changed the subject. “We’re getting something to eat after. You wanna join?”
“Yeah. Not here, I hope.”
Fuck no. I liked Navy Pier, but the food was overpriced.
“On the way back to Grand,” I replied. “I suggested we get beefs, but he wanted a hot dog.”
“Sounds good to me,” he said. “But I drove, so no need to take the L.”
Ah, of course. He’d picked up the tables. Craigslist was his one exception; otherwise, he didn’t touch the work car unless he was on the clock.
Then I cursed, because life wasn’t easy with a five-year-old. “Chip doesn’t have a car seat.” If he’d been taller or a little older, I’d be okay bending the rules with a makeshift booster seat, but Sarah would be so pissed if I accidentally killed my nephew.
It wasn’t like she had any spare kids, which I told Ben too.
He closed his eyes and shook his head at me, shoulders trembling with silent laughter.
I smiled.
We’d figure it out. Chip and I could take the train. No worries. Right now, we had a color run to watch.
The DJ cranked up the music again, and I eyeballed a motherfucker who thought he’d position himself in front of me. Think again, jagoff.
“There they are.” Ben nudged me.
I refocused and saw the little crowd of kids coming down the slope, and I grinned as I spotted Chip near the front. Pride filled me to the brim. Just seeing him so excited was contagious.
Ben and I applauded with the other family members.
“You got this, Chip!” Ben let out a sharp whistle.
“As fast as you can, chipster!” My cheeks hurt from smiling, and we were about to get what we’d come here for. The staff on the sidelines got ready with the color dust, and the DJ announced that all the winners were inbound.
A beat later, the colors exploded in the air, and the kids sprinted into a rainbow of neon yellow, pink, green, blue, and orange.
The first line of kids emerged with triumphant grins and crossed the finish line, with Chip following shortly with a few others, and then the rest. Fuck, he was cute. And completely covered in color powder, from head to toe. So now it made more sense that Sarah hadn’t let him wear his usual gym shoes to kindergarten. Shoes weren’t as easy to get clean. Clothes could be thrown in the washer.
“Come on,” I said at the same time as Ben put a hand on my back and nodded at the kids.
We exchanged a quick smirk, then went over to meet up with Chip. And collect our photos. They’d better be fucking stellar.
“Chip!” I called. He’d just been handed a chocolate medal that he quickly put around his neck, and he spun around in an attempt to locate us.
I was almost there when he saw me and beamed, and then I scooped him up and hugged the shit out of him.
“Did you see me?!” he exclaimed. “That was so fun!”
“You were fucking fantastic.” I grinned and wiped some orange dust off his cheeks. And fuck, it was rubbing off. I was definitely doing laundry tonight.
“Did you see me too, Ben?”
“You kiddin’ me? I saw every second of it.” Ben made the mistake of ruffling Chip’s hair, which sent a cloud of purple and green dust over all of us.
“For chrissakes,” I laughed. “Let’s go see if the photographer earned his money.”
“Can I sit on your shoulders?” Chip begged.
Ben answered before I could. “You can sit on mine, buddy. White Sox fans tend to stand taller.”
I swung an incredulous look his way, and he just laughed. Oh, the motherfucker needed to be brought back down so both his feet touched the ground. But it would help if the Sox hadn’t won their last two games. And if the Cubs hadn’t lost their most recent one.
The moment Ben’s knee hit the ground, Chip was all too happy to climb up.
“You’re not corrupting my nephew,” I warned.
“Corrupting or saving?” Ben helped the boy into place, then rose to his feet, eliciting a wheeeeee! from Chip.
“Corrupting,” I insisted.
Ben ignored me. “Hey, Chip? Do you know the most common words spoken by a Cubs fan?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. What was he up to now?
“Like, words they say a lot?” Chip questioned.
“That’s exactly it,” Ben replied. “Can you guess?”