Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“He decided to join the family,” Luke said as he held his hand out for the diapers that Reese had. “Let me have that. I’ll go get this done.”
Luke disappeared moments later with my charge, and I watched them go until they disappeared around the corner.
When I could no longer see them, I turned back to see Reese and Katy staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
“You’ll make a good dad one day,” Reese said softly. “I can tell, despite her not liking you, you are still worried about her. And for you to even call at all to get help means that you’re invested in her life at least a little bit.”
I was at that.
“I don’t know what to do sometimes,” I admitted. “I’ve gone back and forth since she was born on what I should do. Did Katy give you the complete low down?”
Reese nodded. “You mean did she tell me that everyone thinks that you’re the baby’s father when you’re really not? That you’ve been paying child support for a child that’s not yours so you can keep your foot in the door when it comes to your best friend’s child? A best friend that slept with your wife?”
I let out a low laugh. “She really did tell you everything, didn’t she?”
“Actually,” Katy winced. “I told my dad. I was mad and I had a little time before you woke up this morning to do nothing but brood. So, I texted back and forth with my father today.”
“Hmmm,” I said, not sure whether I was offended that she’d given my entire life story to her father, who also happened to be my boss, or not.
“I guess then, yes,” I said, returning my gaze back to Reese. “I’m invested, I think, because I want Paydon to really see what he made. I want him to have a life with this child. And I think, once he comes around, and stops blaming himself when Tasia was to be blamed in all of it, that he’ll really enjoy having this kid in his life.”
“Paydon can take care of the child?” Reese asked bluntly.
I thought about that question for a second.
In fact, it wasn’t until the waitress left after setting down bread and waters, and taking our drink orders, that I answered her.
“I think, with the help of his parents, that he can do a bang-up job at being a dad. Mentally, he’s a twelve-year-old. A really high-functioning twelve-year-old. He can drive. He handles his own bank account. He works with his father in his oil business. He just…doesn’t make the best of choices. Has poor impulse control. Like if he were to go buy a car, he would be talked into getting something he doesn’t actually need, because he doesn’t know better…do you know what I mean?”
Reese nodded.
“Kind of like when we see a cop and walk up behind him. We see his gun, and every last one of us thinks, ‘I wonder what he would do if I touched his gun.’ Yet, we don’t actually touch it. People with poor impulse control would actually touch it,” Katy offered.
“Katy!” Reese said. “You don’t actually think that, do you?”
Katy shrugged. “I don’t touch it!”
“We’d probably throw you down on the ground,” I told her. “Just sayin’.”
She snickered. “I realize that, which is why I never actually touch the gun.” She paused. “But I might touch yours…just sayin’.”
I would’ve said something more to that comment, but her mother let out an expletive.
“Jesus,” she said. “Sometimes I don’t know what’s gotten into my children.”
“You know you love us, Mom.” Katy batted her eyelashes.
“I do.” She paused. “But like I said, I don’t know why sometimes.”
“Because she’s so much like me,” Luke said as he arrived with a freshly diapered, and even smiling, Gibby.
“Is Gibby her real name?” Reese asked, changing the subject.
“Actually, it’s Logan,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But since it’s weird to be calling a kid that’s supposed to be mine by my name, we started calling her Gibby. Which I’ve heard Tasia refer to her as.”
“Gibby is okay,” Reese said. “Did you say that the Maxwells are on their way down here?”
I nodded. “They left Alaska on their private jet about half an hour ago. It takes about six and a half to get down here, so I assume they’ll be on our doorstep around seven this evening, give or take an hour or so.”
“Luke, give her the food so she can eat.” Reese pushed the Happy Meal our way.
Luke opened the box and handed it over to the girl, who started eating the fries as she watched the rest of us warily.
“How old is she?” Reese suddenly asked.
“Um,” I hesitated, thinking back. “We divorced when she was newly born. And we’ve been divorced for an entire year now. So, a year, give or take a few months. Why?”