Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Right. Now, who’s up for a game of euchre?” Mom asks.
“We’ll pair up.” She turns her gaze to me. “You can pair up with Crosby.”
“Does she know how to play?” I ask.
“Crosby?”
“I know how to play. I’m just not very good, and there’s a good chance I’m going to renege.” She shrugs, chuckling.
“I’ll grab an extra deck of cards, and we can study while we wait our turn,” I tell her.
“Wait, why does he get Crosby?” Archer asks. “What if I wanted her to be my partner?”
“Um, she’s our neighbor. We call dibs,” Maverick chimes in.
“No one is calling dibs, and I’ve already put her with Rush. We want her to feel more comfortable with the game, not your game,” Mom chastises them.
“Burn!” Brooks says from his spot at the dining room table. “You tell him, Momma.” Brooks laughs.
“Raymond, what on earth possessed us to have nine boys? I’m so glad that I now have daughters to even out this testosterone. I need five more before I can really start to feel the shift.” She chuckles, turning on her heel and moving to the dining room table.
We all pitch in to clean up, and then the first game begins. Grabbing an extra deck of cards, I motion for Crosby to follow me and make my way down to the basement.
“Will they find us down here when it’s our turn?” she asks.
“Trust me, gorgeous, there isn’t a single place in this house, hell, on this property, that they won’t find us. We’ve uncovered all the good spots, and all nine of us know them. This will, however, give us a small reprieve from the action to help you refresh your mind before it’s time for us to play.”
For the next hour or so, we go over the different plays and what each card means, depending on what’s trump. “You’re a good teacher,” she tells me.
“Yeah, I’ll leave the teaching to you. I love my nieces and nephews, but I don’t know that I could deal with a school full of them.”
“You could. I’ve seen you in action.”
“If I had to, but I enjoy what I do.”
“What is that?” she asks.
“I’m a machinist. College wasn’t my thing, so I went to the vocational school. Learned a trade, and I’ve been working at the same place in Harris since I graduated. I like working with my hands, and I’m good at it.”
“Modest too,” she teases.
“If you know, you know.” I wink at her. “What about you? Why teaching?”
“Just wanted a stable career. I’ve always loved kids.”
“You can give me more than that,” I tell her.
“I didn’t have the best life growing up. Foster care, at least in my experience, wasn’t a good time. I wanted a career that I knew if I ever got the chance to be a mom, I would have summers and holidays off to spend with them. I never want my child to feel unwanted or unloved.”
I reach across the table and place my hand over hers. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through. The things you’ve lived through and seen.”
“It wasn’t all bad, but you’re lucky.” She lifts her head, and her eyes lock with mine. “Hugs and family dinners weren’t things I had growing up. Cherish that. Your parents and your brothers.”
Did you hear that? That was my heart cracking in my chest for this woman. I open my mouth to say something, but I don’t have words. What can I say? I’m sorry doesn’t seem like enough, and I know she doesn’t want to hear it anyway. She’ll think I pity her, and it’s not pity. It’s fucking pain, deep in my chest, for what she didn’t have. I know how lucky I am. Instead of speaking, I push back in my chair and walk around the table. She peers up at me, and I offer her my hand.
“Is it our turn?” she asks.
“It’s your turn.” She looks confused but places her hand in mine and allows me to pull her to her feet. I don’t step back. Instead, I wrap my arms around her and bury my face in her neck. I hold her as tightly as I can manage without suffocating her. She’s stiff in my arms until she isn’t. Her arms latch around my waist, and I feel her shudder. That only makes me hug her just a little tighter.
I don’t know how long we stand here, just holding onto one another. Thinking about Crosby as a little girl yearning for love and affection and not getting it crushes me. It’s a weight sitting on my chest.
“Yo! You’re up!” Archer calls down to us.
“Coming!” I call back. I ease my hold on Crosby and, with my index finger beneath her chin, bring her eyes to mine. “You ever need a hug, you call me. I don’t care when it is. I’m your guy.”