Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
These are all the thoughts I’m grappling with. Pretty sure it’s three-something in the morning, but I don’t want to turn my phone on and check. Our dads are both getting in tomorrow. My dad in the morning. Hers in the evening. We didn’t want to chance that they’d meet each other at the airport or end up on the same flight.
We aren’t any closer to coming up with a plan as to how to ease them into talking again, forgiving each other, and coming to an understanding.
It makes sense because we’re no closer to any of that either.
She’s ignored me, avoided me, and acted like she was cast in stone these past few days. She’s gone into the woods, but not far, and she’s so quiet. She’s clearly trying to hide what she’s feeling and thinking.
We need a game plan for our dads. It’s not enough to remind them that they used to be besties, they raised us as single dads, and they need each other. That they’re acting like kids. We need more than that because they know these things. It just hasn’t sunk in.
Whatever we do, it has to work. The angry, grouchy, hating each other, competitive, surly, gnarly dad situation has to be diffused. After that, we’re going to need something enticing for both of them, a reason for them to stay. Something non-competitive and non-threatening. Something so awesome that they can’t say no.
A start-up company? No. Better not talk about companies.
Picking out a cat? As far as I know, I’m still allergic, but I can work on that. Like take pills or meds or get shots or something. My dad never really liked pets in the house, and Patience’s dad wouldn’t let her even have a goldfish, so they probably won’t want to do that.
The awesome pool might be hecking awesome, but it’s not hecking awesome enough.
What about bribery? Gaslighting? Or telling them that they’re hurting their kids with this anger, separation, and distance, and they need to start working on healing their families because they’re a single unit now?
Arrrrrrrraaaawwwwww!
Holy freaking god. What the fuck was that?
I don’t just sit upright. I bolt upright. And the sheets go flying. It’s a good thing Bitty Kitty isn’t in here because the bed is a mess. I race to the door and fling it open.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Oh my god. It sounds like a panther is caught in the house. Or a fox is doing its blood-curdling scream. Something is being murdered in here.
I careen around the corner, heading toward the sound.
Arrrrrraahhhhhhhhhh!
Shit on a stick. There really is something wild in here. I’m the most all about peace and love a person can be, and I don’t believe in owning a gun, even for protection out here in the woods. I don’t have an axe for cutting firewood either because the house is high-efficiency, and I don’t have a fireplace. I didn’t want to cut down trees. The house has lots of solar technology going on, too, and complicated water systems. It’s as eco-friendly as most houses could ever be. So yeah, no wood. No axe. The kitchen knife block? If there’s a panther in here, what am I going to do with a butter or steak knife? Because I don’t dare get anything bigger. It would probably get turned against me.
Swift, tiny footsteps come racing swiftly around the corner, and a blur of pink and white nearly runs straight into me. I put out my arms and stop the blur mid-motion before there’s a collision.
“There’s something in the house!” Patience wails. She’s white. Completely ghostly white.
“Mushroom House Manager, turn on the lights!” The house is really good at following my commands, and all the lights in the whole place go on at once. I like that it doesn’t ask me if I just meant the hall light or what. Even my AI house software knows this is an emergency.
“Ahh!” Patience shoves away from me. Her face is all twisted up, and her eyes are huge and exceptionally green. They look like they’re going to pop out of her head. She could probably use them as weapons against the animal invader.
God, what a thought. I don’t think they’d be very effective weapons. Also…gruesome.
The screams go silent. The house is silent. Maybe the lights going on scared the creature. But there’s still a wild animal in here. Patience is here, and I can keep her safe by putting myself between her and whatever is in here with us, but where’s Bitty Kitty? I have to find her and make sure she’s okay.
“Where the hell are your clothes?”
Shit. Oh, shit. All the shit.
I have this thing where I just can’t sleep in clothes, especially not in the summer. I don’t know what it is. I just find it so restricting. Gotch in the summer becomes sweaty easily, and they make the balls itch. Ball itch isn’t fun. Going commando between the sheets is a nice relief, especially since no one wants itchy, rashy, sweaty junk.