Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 74379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74379 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Both boys were happy, healthy, and everything that I ever imagined.
Our new daughter, though, I knew was going to be a force to be reckoned with…just like her mother.
“Can you give her to me already, baby hog?”
Chuckling, I cleaned her off, sucked out her nose with a bulb, and handed her over.
“Aren’t you glad I brought my doctor bag now?” I teased.
She rolled her eyes.
Not only had I brought my doctor bag, but I’d packed the car with all the necessities a newborn baby would need…just in case.
And wasn’t I now glad I did?
“Yeah, baby.” Krisney started to sniffle. “I’m glad you did.”
I waited and attended to other matters—such as delivering her placenta and cleaning her up—while she bonded with the baby.
Once everything was as clean as I was going to get it—and no, I doubted we were going to get our deposit back for this one—I rounded the table and picked her up, carrying her to the clean bed.
Once she was settled, I crawled in beside her, pulled out my phone, and called my mother.
She answered on the second ring.
“You got time to Facetime, Mom?”
Facetime had become a thing for me and the boys.
Sometimes I worked late hours and didn’t get the chance to say goodnight to our kids. On those days, I’d Facetime Krisney and talk to the boys, tell them a bedtime story and give them air kisses.
So, they were not new to this game.
What was new was seeing another person on the receiving end of their phone call.
“Boys,” I turned the phone so it was pointing at Krisney and their new sister. “I want you to meet your sister, Amy.”
Life hadn’t gone as planned for Krisney and me.
No, we’d both suffered uselessly, and most of that was my own doing.
But I was making up for it now with every single breath I took. The day I died, I wanted Krisney to know that she had meant everything to me. Hopefully in fifty plus years from now, she would look back on our time together, and the happiness of our lives would outweigh the regret over losing those first twelve years together. Hopefully, when she looked back over our life, she only thought of the happy years we’d had after we reconnected, and never felt sad again.
I’d spend the rest of my life making sure that she was happy, and I would enjoy every single second of it as I did it.
“God, baby,” I breathed, looking down at my two girls. “She’s fuckin’ perfect.”
She glared at me. “Language.”
I managed not to point out to her that she’d said enough F words to last them a lifetime.
“Yes, ma’am.”