Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“What, exactly, happens at this adorable festival?” Miranda persists, placing her elbow onto the table. “Are there, like, events and games, or . . .?”
“Oh, yes,” Barbara says. “We have all kinds of fun stuff, culminating in a live auction at the end that raises money for the school and various local causes.”
My sister nudges me. “You’ve donated to the auction already, right?”
“I’m going to. I haven’t figured out my exact donation yet.”
“There’s still plenty of time,” Barbara assures me with a wink.
“Come on, you loser-procrastinator,” Miranda says. “Let’s figure out your donation now, so Barbara can run with it.” She taps a manicured finger onto the wooden table. “Four tickets to your next show with backstage passes? That’s a no-brainer. Also, a bunch of signed merch.” She drums her fingers. “What else? It needs to be something people can’t get on the open market.”
I shift in my seat. “The thing is, my band doesn’t know when we’ll be playing next. We had to cancel our tour when I . . . messed up in New York.” I glance at Aubrey and she smiles sympathetically. I’ve already told her about how I epically trashed my hotel suite in New York after finding out about my mother’s passing three thousand miles away.
“How about a one-on-one drum lesson taught by you, here in Prairie Springs?” Miranda suggests. “I bet that would bring in big money.”
I shift in my seat again. Doesn’t Miranda realize I can’t commit to anything, especially not in Prairie Springs, until I know the outcome of the fucking custody hearing? The closer it gets, the more nervous I become that the judge is going to destroy the happiness I’ve found with Aubrey and Raine. Have I done enough to win custody, or is my entire life about to get decimated in that courtroom in LA? My insomnia has been coming back to haunt me the past few nights, as the custody hearing draws ever closer.
“Maybe,” I say vaguely, just as the latest song on Aubrey’s playlist ends, and Aloha Carmichael’s female-empowerment anthem, “Pretty Girl,” begins.
At the sound of her favorite song, Raine slides off her chair and starts dancing for the group on the deck, much to everyone’s delight.
“She’s doing the dance from the music video,” Aubrey explains to Miranda with a chuckle.
“I know that dance!” Miranda shouts excitedly. “I’ll do it with you, Rainey!”
“My Aubbey!” Raine shrieks, pointing at Aubrey. And in short order, both women—my sister and the woman I can’t get enough of—are standing on either side of my baby girl, performing the choreography as a trio. Sort of. Truthfully, Raine is a shit show, in terms of her ability to keep up with the dance. But she’s damned cute while trying.
Of course, Joe, Barb, and I cheer the performance enthusiastically. But midway through the song, Raine points at me and shouts, “Dadda dance!”
My eyes find Aubrey’s. She’s smiling. Egging me on.
“You heard your daughter,” Aubrey teases.
“Come on, Caleb,” Miranda adds. “Dance, Dadda.”
Fuck it. I’m so fucking happy these days, I’ll do pretty much anything to make my daughter smile. I rise from the table, scoop up my baby girl, and dance around the deck with her in my arms to the beat of the song, while Raine laughs like a hyena in my arms.
When the song ends, Raine throws her head back and belly laughs, making me do the same. And when she tilts her head back up, she does something amazing. Something she’s never done before. Something that rocks my fucking world. She grips both sides of my beard in her tiny hands, kisses me square on the mouth, and says, “I luh you, Dadda!”
My heart explodes. “I love you, too, Shortcake,” I choke out. “So, so much.”
Euphoria. Relief. They’re slamming into me like a hurricane. Making me physically dizzy.
For weeks, I’ve worried I haven’t been doing enough to win Raine over—to impress the judge when the time comes and prove I’m a fit father. For weeks, I’ve worried the unthinkable might happen. That the judge might award Raine to Ralph Beaumont, instead of me. In fact, I’ve started having nightmares about that scenario.
But now that I know Raine loves me, and that she’ll likely tell the social worker that, I feel invincible. Like nothing and nobody can stop me now. This little girl is mine, and I’m hers. And nobody will ever break that bond, ever again. Not even me and my usual self-sabotaging bullshit. I’m done being unreliable and selfish. I’m done being a dumbass. From this moment forward, as long as I live, I’m going to be the best father to Raine, as humanly possible.
I pull my baby girl close and squeeze her tight, feeling like my heart is going to physically burst and splatter all over my newly finished, pristine deck. But after a moment, I realize our embrace is missing something essential. Someone essential. Aubrey.