Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
We did that once, and it came at a cost that’s impossible to repay.
I won’t make that mistake again.
“Seeeeee,” he hisses, in obvious outrage. “Everyone. Else.”
“You’re being simplistic.”
“You’re being a paddlepuss.”
“What. Did. You. Just. Call. Me?”
Wy slams his back against the seat at the same time he redirects his attention out the window yet doesn’t repeat himself.
What the fuck is a paddlepuss?
Is that an insult?
It strikes me as an insult.
Do I really have to learn to speak surfer?
Was learning to talk Trekky for truly everyone else not enough?
“You asked me what I wanted for Christmas,” quietly begins the oldest Wilcox child, glare gliding back to me, “and that’s what I want.” Our eyes tightly lock. “I want to be in Doctenn for Christmas. I want to give Kendall her gift. I want to make sure that kook in his overpriced designer boardies that’s been coastin’ her waves all semmy gets the mess that she’s not his Betty. She’s mine.”
All of sudden, unexpected memories begin flashing through my mind.
Snow falling.
Fire crackling.
Jazzy Christmas tunes lingering somewhere in the distance.
Wy’s crystal stare shifts into my mismatched one.
His custom Trekky beach club hoodie transforms into a designer sweater.
The energy drink in front of him becomes traditional Wilcox Christmas punch – complete with our yearly limited-edition whiskey.
They didn’t care that I drank.
Hell, I’m pretty sure it was expected.
Wilcoxes drank.
It’s our name.
In our history.
Our roots.
Drinking underage wasn’t something to lift an eyebrow about – especially not when it was supporting our business – however me yelling was.
I rarely yelled.
I rarely had reason to.
But going home to be with her wasn’t a want.
It was a need.
A need that cost me the two people who loved me most in the world for someone who I’m not certain ever did.
Similar to the Penny situation, I’m not taking an unnecessary risk.
In spite of the desperation he’s feeling at this very moment, he’s fine.
He’ll be fine.
And us not traveling to another country, in unknown weather, is how I guarantee that.
His safety…our family’s safety…is the most important thing to me.
It always has been.
It always will be.
Has to be.
“We’re not going to Doctenn for Christmas, Wyland.” I swallow the lump of apprehension in my throat, drop my attention down to my booklet, and coldly state, “End of discussion.”
There’s no reluctance in his retort or him storming off elsewhere, “I hate you.”
Which is fine.
Because at least he’ll still be alive to do so.
Chapter 2
Brynley
I may be a bit bias, but I’m just gonna say it anyway.
I wear the gold shirt in this family for a fucking reason.
Who just bought their nine-year-old daughter a purple, five-string violin for Christmas?!
This Captain.
Right here.
The same one who last minute arranged for her family to go to a midnight showing of How the Grinch Stole Christmas to help calm her other nine-year-old’s nerves about her big performance in the charity production hosted by her family’s company in which all proceeds – tickets as well as concessions – go to helping provide holiday gifts for children in homeless shelters.
It’s a win-win for all involved.
Blakely gets the gift of acting on stage – her favorite shit in the world – and other kids get to open presents on Christmas morning, perhaps getting something they want or need.
However, I just wanna be clear.
Blakely didn’t get the role because her last name is Wilcox.
No.
She had to audition just like everyone else.
And she pre-emptively agreed to accept whatever part she was given with “jingle bells” on.
Luckily for her, all the acting classes and late-night line rehearsing with her big brother paid off.
She’s Cindy Lou Who.
And I’m simply the grateful Who that has a best friend well versed in hair along with makeup, which will guarantee she looks equally as good as she acts.
Neither of my girls became ocean obsessed; however, both fell in love with Star Trek and Batman.
Just…not in the ways we would’ve thought.
Blakely loves acting.
Accents.
Sir Patrick Stewart, Michael Dorn, Sir Michael Cain, and Morgan Freeman are all acting staples in her “study” materials.
From the minute she watched her first episodes, she did her best to recreate all of their movements and inflictions.
Side log?
It’s hilarious as fuck to listen to a four-year-old try to speak Klingon only to then have her big brother poorly correct her with his own shittily spoken version.
Definitely one of those I should’ve caught it on video moments.
Now, Braelyn on the other fin?
She went in the opposite direction.
She became mesmerized by the music.
The soundtracks became the only thing she would even fall asleep to.
She still plays them to help her drift off.
And as much as they may look like me – we’re talking miniature duplicates with slightly lighter skin – they’re nothing like me attitude wise.
They’re both neat.
And organized.
And anal retentive about time, which is ironic to me considering they were born prematurely.
Patience is something they’ve always had in abundant supply – even when they were babies – while compromise is their second language.