Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Her boys? Can’t let us get hungry? She’s usually willing to let Michael starve.
I have no idea what that’s about, but I’m not going to ask. Her mother has already exhausted me.
Lauren’s coy grin. “You can’t just walk in here. I could’ve been in the middle of something.”
I grip the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn white.
I’ve never considered that Lauren might have an affair. She would never do that, but I’m well aware that she could have her pick of men. I’m not at home much these days, so seeing a strange car in the driveway had sent jealousy snaking down my spine.
“Where’s Snaps?” Maddie asks, peeking into the back seat.
I blow out a breath. “He’s still at the shop. Michael and I will pick him up on the way out of town.”
“Cool. I left Mom the keys to my truck in case she needs to go anywhere,” Michael says. Whoa, did he use the entire bottle of body spray after his shower? “So we don’t have to worry about that.”
“Why would she need your truck?” I turn on the engine and then roll down my window a crack to get some fresh air before we all choke to death. “She has a car.”
“She probably won’t. It’s just in case, because her driver’s-side front tire has a slow leak,” Michael says. “I put some stop leak in it a while ago, and it seemed to help. But it’s started going flat again.”
It is? “Why doesn’t she come by the shop and get a new one?”
“Why don’t you take it to work one day and fix it while you’re there?”
I lift a brow. “I’ve been a little busy.” And I didn’t know it was flat until now.
“Well, she’s been kind of busy too.”
“I’m aware. I saw her office.”
Michael grips my headrest and pokes his head into the front. “Did you notice the new shelves? She’s had me in there for the last week building crafting tables and shelving units. If that’s what adulting looks like, I’m done. Seventeen forever, man.”
I laugh at the look on his face—one of abject horror at the thought of manual labor for the rest of eternity.
The day Michael was born was one of the best days of my life. He wailed, wrinkling his nose, and screamed for all he was worth. I stood beside Lauren’s bed, gobsmacked that this heroine had just birthed a nine-pound baby, while Michael protested at the top of his lungs. When they put him in my arms, I swear he screamed louder. But when I placed him on Lauren’s chest? Silence.
He has had an affinity for his mother from that day forward. He’s her fiercest protector, her biggest fan. I used to tell myself that he got that from me. But lately, I’m not so sure that’s true, and that’s hard to justify.
The last few weeks have been different with the kids now out of school. Michael has hung around the shop. Maddie and Elodie have walked up to get money to go to the movies or to get a milkshake. As the days have passed, I’ve found myself wanting to go home. I’ve thought about pulling out the grill and seeing if Lauren will make her potato salad. Or seeing if she wants to take a drive at sunset like we used to.
But I haven’t done either thing.
If I go home, Lauren ignores me. If she’s not ignoring me, she’s making it clear she’s annoyed. And she’s not really to blame.
But here we are, and I don’t know how to get us anywhere else. Do I leave her happy and stay out of her way? Or do I press my luck and potentially make things worse?
Michael slinks back into his seat. “I borrowed your drill. The battery is on the charger if you go looking for it.”
“Why didn’t you ask me for help?” I pull out of the driveway. “We could’ve worked together and done it in half the time.”
“Correction: we could’ve done it together in a third of the time. I had no idea what I was doing. But you’re never home and she needed it done, so I just figured it out.”
Wow. Okay.
I glance quickly at him in the rearview mirror and then back at the road.
What else don’t I know?
I make a right onto the highway toward Maddie’s gym.
“Are you okay, Dad?” Maddie asks.
“Me? Yeah.” I exhale harshly. “Just thinking about your mom. I’ll never understand that woman.”
“She’s not hard to understand, you know,” Maddie says, sliding her sunglasses down her face.
“I beg to differ.”
Michael grips my headrest. “I wouldn’t worry about her too much. Mom is pretty self-sufficient. It’s not like she’s sitting around waiting on someone to take care of her, you know?”
“Sit back,” I say, shoulders tensing.
What the hell is happening?
There’s a cloud of uncertainty swirling around. Why do I feel like I’ve missed a conversation?