Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Okay.” Macy stood up. “A last request before you leave our house. Can you watch the kids while I go into the office?”
“Of course,” I said.
“Dillon will be here. He’s working on the computer.”
“I won’t bother him,” I said. “We’ll go for a walk or something,”
“Yay!” Daisy hopped down and raced to put her shoes on.
When Macy returned from her office, we all had lunch. She was an art therapist and worked part-time consulting with the hospital. Before the baby was born, she used to see individual clients, sometimes even going to their homes. But with three children, she had decided to concentrate more on being a mother and less on her business. She still occasionally provided therapy sessions in the hospital and was available to refer doctors to other practitioners. The income wasn’t much, but I knew that every paycheck counted. Daisy and Nicky wouldn’t miss the more expensive clothes or the better streaming service, but they would miss their mom if she wasn’t there with them. It was a perfect trade-off, letting Macy basically be a stay-at-home parent but still engaged in the field.
Lindsey had continued her career as well, but she only had one child. I didn’t have a fancy calling like either of them. I wasn’t a hairstylist like Lindsey or a therapist like Macy. I was just a receptionist and had no idea what my future held for me career-wise. I wouldn’t mind giving it up to become a mother, if that was in the cards for me. I reminded myself that Mike and I could still count the number of dates on one hand. As earth-shattering as the sex had been, it didn’t mean we were having children.
Nicky brought me out of my reverie. “Are you going to finish your sandwich?”
I looked down at the plain white bread peanut butter sandwich on my plate. I would never get used to all this kid food. In my own apartment, I could stock the fridge with salads and avocados. In my own cabin, I corrected myself. I split the sandwich in half. Even if it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, I still needed some fuel for the rest of the day. I shared half with Nicky while his mom wasn’t looking and quickly finished my part.
“Are we done?” Macy asked, putting the dishes in the sink.
“Yes, Mommy,” Daisy chirped.
“We’re going to see a new cabin with Tammy,” Macy announced.
Nicky pouted. “Why does Tammy need a new cabin?”
“She’s just visiting us for a little while,” Macy explained. “She needs her own place.”
“Why?” Nicky asked, climbing down from his chair.
I looked at Macy for help, but she shrugged. “Adults sometimes want to live on their own,” I said.
“Oh,” Nicky grumbled.
“Get your shoes on,” Macy said.
It took us a full half hour to get clean and dressed. Macy collected Dillon from their home office, changed Emily, and took inventory of the diaper bag while I cleaned the kitchen. Nicky and Daisy ran back and forth from their rooms to the common area, looking for some toy or an article of clothing that they couldn’t live without. Macy had to stop everything to find Nicky’s orange shirt with the octopus on the front, and Daisy refused to leave the house without her cuddle bunny.
When we were finally ready to go, we had to take two cars. Macy and I took the older children in her car while Dillon drove himself and Emily. It wasn’t far away, but it wasn’t as close as Lindsey and Jason’s cabin. When we pulled onto the access road, the house was close enough that you could see it through the trees. It was a tiny thing, more like a ranch house than a cabin.
I got out of the car, turning around to help Daisy out of her car seat. Macy helped Nicky, and Dillon pulled into the driveway right behind us. Macy went around the truck to get Emily. Nicky ran around his father’s legs, such a ball of energy that Dillon had no choice but to pick him up and settle the child on his shoulders.
“Tammy?” An older gentleman, dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, singled me out as being the cousin.
“Yes, sir,” I said, extending my hand.
“Welcome,” the landlord said.
Dillon and Macy introduced themselves, and we made some introductory chitchat.
“Is the road very busy?” Macy asked, eyeing the break in the trees.
“No,” the landlord assured us. “This isn’t as remote as some other cabins in the area, but I assure you, it is private enough.”
“What about utilities?” I asked.
“Power, water, heat, you can pay directly.” He turned to unlock the door. “Trash I cover.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
We stepped into the front room, a space large enough for a set of couches and a television. Through an archway, the kitchen sat snugly at the back of the house. It was tight but functional. I wouldn’t be serving any banquets in this house, but it could work for my day-to-day needs. A short hallway led to three doors, a bathroom and two small bedrooms. We checked each of them out by turns.