Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
"Hey." He hugs me much like my uncle did and kisses my head. I wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest. "How are you doing? You look tired."
"Yeah," I say, looking at my mother, who just eyes me. She comes over and only when she is standing next to my father does he let me go.
I put my arm around my mother’s shoulder, standing beside her. "You look like you haven’t slept." I’m about to answer her when my brother yells.
"That’s because she drank last night," Cooper says from the kitchen. Erika punches his arm. "Ouch, what was that for?" She mumbles something to him. "Like my parents don’t know she drinks."
"I didn’t drink that much." I roll my eyes and look back at my father, who just looks at me. "I was with Cooper and Michael." I put both my hands up. "And I’m safe."
"Stop looking at her like that," my mother tells him. "She’s a grown woman who can take care of herself."
"Come and eat!" my aunt yells as the two chefs start putting serving dishes on the counter.
"It smells good." My hand drops off my mother as I walk into the kitchen and see the Italian food they made.
I grab a plate and walk over to one of the tables to sit down. Julia follows me with Jillian, who is getting so big. She’s carrying twins, and even though she is a twin herself, she was shocked she would be able to have twins. She sits next to me, and my mother and aunt join us while the guys sit at the other table talking about the games that were on last night.
"Why are you so quiet?" Erika asks me, taking a sip of water.
"I didn’t sleep last night," I answer honestly.
"Oh, no," my aunt says. "Are you okay?”
"Yes, I was sexually frustrated," I respond, and Erika chokes on her water. Ignoring her, I continue picking at the food. "Did you know that it’s actually a medical condition?" I look at all the women who just stare at me, shocked that I would even say this at the table. Although they should know that nothing is off the table.
"I had no idea," Julia says. "Maybe that’s what I suffer from also."
"What do you suffer from?" Michael says, coming to the table and leaning down to kiss Jillian on the cheek. For the first time, I’m jealous of it. The touch. The intimacy of it.
"It’s called restless genital syndrome," I share, and he just looks like he’s seen a ghost. "Have you heard about it?" I try not to laugh at his face, and so does everyone else, but they all fail.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He stands up, putting his hands on his hips. "We’re eating lunch." He looks down at Jillian. "Put your hands on your stomach so the girls don’t hear her talking." He turns and walks back to the men’s table.
"I don’t know what it is," I say, huffing out. "I just feel off."
"When was the last time you had sex?" Erika asks, and I look at her.
"How long have you been married?" I look over at Jillian. My mother and aunt gasp out, and I laugh out loud.
"It’s fine." I put my hand up. "I’ll get it fixed."
"I really need to know if you see a doctor for this." My aunt Allison laughs. “Like, do you go to your gynecologist or your general practitioner?"
I shrug my shoulders, and my mother changes the subject and starts talking about I don’t even know what. I don’t even eat much. Instead, I just move the food around my plate absentmindedly, thinking back to last night and where it went wrong. Was it me? Was I too assertive?
"Come sit outside with me," my mother says, and I nod, getting up with my plate. After I throw the leftover food in the garbage and putting the plate in the dishwasher, I follow her outside. I see the kids running around, going to the tree house that my uncle had made. Every year, he adds another part to it. Soon, it’s going to be as big as the pool guesthouse. "Let’s sit over there." She points at a couch under the awning. I sit down, and my mother sits in the chair facing me. "So, what’s up?"
"What do you mean?" I ask, and she leans back in the chair.
"You barely said anything at lunch. You're grumpy; you're tired." I start to say something, and she holds up her hand. "I don’t want to hear about your restless vagina."
"Well, that’s what’s the matter," I say to her.
"Who is he?” She looks at me, and I don’t know what to say.
“No one,” I answer her. “We met a while ago, and our paths crossed again.”