Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
“I can do that. Is it by the front door?” When Dad would forget his lunch growing up, it was always in the same spot. Mom always placed it there for him on days she didn’t work, and depending on what was going on, you can count on Dad leaving it at least once a month.
“Yes. I’m going to book our vacation. That way, everyone knows we won’t be here, and they can’t call begging him to work. Shit, I can’t do that until you know for sure if Kody can watch Josephine.”
“Book the vacation. I’ll take JoJo to work with me. Lacey might be available, too. I have a feeling that Kody will watch her even though she’s not happy with me and my damn penchant for being an asshole.” I grab Dad’s lunchbox so it’s in my hand and I don’t forget it as well.
“Well, they say the first step is admitting you have a problem. At least you’re further along than your father ever has been.” I make my way back to the kitchen. She’s puttering around. Probably pulling out stuff to bake with Josephine.
“You love him the way he is, and you’ve got no problem putting him in his place. Are you baking pumpkin muffins?”
“That depends. You got a hug for your mom before you leave.” That’s not a question; it’s a statement. In this house, you didn’t leave or so much as get out of the car without a hug and an ‘I love you.’
“Sure do. Josephine, I’m leaving. Come give me a hug.” I didn’t get it back then when I was younger and thought it was stupid to always show your parents affection. Now I get it. Boy, do I ever.
“I watch toons!” she groans, but I hear her stomp her little feet out of the den as I give my mom a hug.
“Up?” I meet her at the mouth of the hallway, already ahead of her question. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I soak up as much time as I can with her. When I turn around, I see Mom shaking her head, mouthing, ‘Been there, done that. It sucks huh?’
“Love you. Be good for Nan and convince her to make pumpkin muffins for me, eh?” I kiss her forehead. Her eyes light up at muffins.
“I cook wif Kody,” she tells me for the third time today.
“Yeah, and now you’re gonna bake with Nan,” I reply.
“Chowcolate chwips, Nan?” JoJo kicks her feet. I set her down, and she runs to the chair.
“You betcha. Get out of here, Jameson. Don’t forget your dad's lunch.” I stand and watch my mother help Josephine scoot the chair across the tile floor. The two of them go about their day. I may as well not be here when it comes to their time together.
“Bye bye!” Josephine says one last time.
“Later, gator.” She throws me a kiss. I catch it with my hand and smack it on my cheek. Josephine’s giggles follow me out of the house, helping me feel lighter than I should. Hell, I’d be a fool to hope Kody would forgive me, and I have a sinking suspicion she’s going to make me work for it, too. That’s alright with me because I’ve got Josephine, and I’m not above using my daughter if it means I’ll get the girl in the end.
18
KODY
I’m a glutton for punishment, but also, an iced coffee won’t hurt. As long as Jameson doesn’t open his big, fat mouth and make me want to throw it in his face, that is. Those are my thoughts as I open the door to The Java Hut. The noise of beans being ground, the scent of the strong-smelling nectar of the caffeine gods, and I am hustling to the counter to place my order.
“Kody,” Jameson’s voice mutters in my ear. His hand is spanning the entirety of my lower back, and my stupid body responds to him even when I don’t want it to.
“Good grief, you about had me peeing my pants.” Boundaries. Jameson has none of them as he pulls me into his firm body.
“Sorry, figured you didn’t need two iced coffees. Our order is at the counter.” I’m utterly confused, and my face must share the sentiment. “I called in reinforcements. I didn’t get food, though.” He looks uncertain. The man who always looks stoic, his shit isn’t locked down, almost like he’s shaking in his boots. I must be really lacking sleep, delusional in my state. Why else would I be happy to see him feeling unsettled?
“Coffee is good. I take it Shaun had no problem blabbing his mouth.” My big brother is a talker. My parents once teased him when he was little that he’d talk to a brick wall. He’d talk to a stranger at the grocery store or standing on a street corner waiting at the crosswalk. He never met someone he couldn’t have a conversation with, and he’s still the same way to this day. As for me, I’m a bit more hesitant, unless it’s a child. They’re much easier to understand than adults.