Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“I love cars. Engines.”
“That’s what my fiancé does.”
“Wicked cool. I want to be a mechanic.” Then he snorted. “My mom wants me to be something better.”
“Better?”
“Someone who wears a suit and makes a ton of money.”
“Ah.”
“Can I see the jokes?”
“Sure.”
He shut off his game and slid closer. He traced the words on my cast as he read them to himself, chuckling over a few of the silly jokes. He had long fingers, his nails ragged and uncared for. I had a feeling his mother probably nagged him about the condition a lot.
He laughed out loud at one joke, the sound so familiar, I startled. I stared at him, then swallowed. “My name is Cherry. What’s yours?”
He grinned. “Josh.”
I tried to hide my shock. I was staring at Dom’s son. That was the reason he looked so familiar.
This was the boy Dom was upstairs fighting for the right to get to know. To be a part of his life.
His mother had dropped him off beside me.
“How old are you, Josh?”
“Thirteen.”
“Do you like school?” I asked, desperate for any information I could get to share with Dom.
“It’s fine. I like science and art. Math, no.”
“I like numbers.”
“It’s so complicated.”
I pulled a pen from my purse and wrote some problems on a napkin. He frowned. “It makes no sense.”
“What if you broke it down this way?” I asked.
He furrowed his brow as he looked at the numbers, tracing them the way he did with the words earlier. “Thirty-two?” he asked.
“Yes!”
“Give me another one.”
Time flew by as I taught him the way my dad had taught me, breaking down the equations into parts he could understand. Replacing numbers with objects. He was smart. Funny. I asked him question after question. His favorite color. Movie. Time of day. Memory.
He paused when I asked that. He looked around as if making sure he wasn’t overheard.
“I don’t know if it’s a memory. I’m at a park, and there’s a guy. He’s pushing me on the swing, then catching me on the slide. We have ice cream. It was sunny.”
“Who’s the guy?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
“I think it’s my dad, but it’s fuzzy. He left us—didn’t want me or my mom. I always wondered, if he didn’t want us, why he’d be so nice. So sometimes, I think it’s just me thinking and wishing.”
I clasped his hand. “I’m sure it’s real. You know, sometimes you don’t know the whole story.”
He shrugged. “I guess I never will.”
“Josh!” a voice called.
I looked up to see his mother striding toward us. She looked furious. “We’re going. Now.”
She was tall with light golden hair. Icy blue eyes. Pretty, in a hard way. Anxious to leave. She barely glanced at me. “Let’s go.”
“Nice to meet you, Josh.”
“You too,” he said. “Thanks for the math lessons.”
“I hope it helps.”
She tugged him away, not sparing me a glance. She pulled him through the café, disappearing through one door as Dom and Halton walked in through another one.
They came over, sitting down, and I reached for Dom’s hand. “Well?” I asked, hoping how angry Josh’s mom had been because things had gone well for Dom.
“I get to see him.” Dom’s voice was tight. “I get to see my son. I don’t know if I’ll even recognize him.”
I leaned close. “Dom, he was here.”
He gaped at me. “What?”
“His mom had to bring him with her. She asked if he could sit at my table. It took a few moments after she left, then I realized who he was. It was Josh.”
Halton chuckled. “I told you she was your good-luck charm.”
“You talked to him?”
“I did. He’s so amazing.”
Dom turned, gripping my hand. “Tell me everything.”
Dom studied the photo I showed him, his brow furrowed. I had snapped it as Josh had lifted his head from solving a problem. He had been smiling widely, proud of himself for understanding how to use the tools I had shown him. He looked so much like his father in the photo, and I knew Dom could see that.
“This is the clearest, most up-to-date photo I have,” he said thickly. “The ones I get from the lawyer are always blurry and older. He says Roxanne doesn’t have a decent camera.”
Halton scoffed. “She was carrying the same phone I have. Great camera. She’s playing a game.” He sat back, swinging his leg. “She likes games, that one. I know her type. Using the child to hurt her ex.” He shook his head. “Which, in the end, hurts the child as well.”
“You get to see him,” I prompted. “When?”
“Next Saturday. She’s bringing him to meet me at a restaurant we chose halfway for both of us at one. I get him for two hours. If he’s agreeable and it goes well, I get him for the whole day the following Saturday. Then overnight the week after.” Dom sighed. “I agreed to go slow so Josh isn’t overwhelmed. I don’t want him upset.”