Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Shirley has made popcorn, and the boys sit on the couch, watching the big screen in front of them. “There’s my dad,” Jack says while I put our bag by the door. I walk back into the living room and see that Shirley is sitting on one side of the couch with Jack in her arms. She looks up and smiles at me.
“Sorry it took so long. I got soaked getting Michael out of the tub,” I tell her. “Jack got me one of Zack’s shirts.”
She kisses Jack’s head and then looks back up. “It’s perfect,” she says, and we turn to watch the game. The players are just taking the ice, and the national anthem starts playing and we sing along with them. Michael is curled up in my side.
“Jack’s grandma,” Michael says, “that’s my dad and my uncle.” He’s pointing at Max and Matthew proudly.
She nods her head. “You’re handsome like them.” He doesn’t say anything; he just nods his head, agreeing with her.
The game is a nail-biter as both teams push each other physically. Philly gets the first blood when one of them tries to slash Phil. Instead, his stick goes up higher than he expected, nailing Phil in the nose. His head snaps back as blood starts to trickle out. Phil skates over to the referee and shows him the blood on his fingers, getting the Philly player an extra two minutes for drawing blood.
I see the guy skate to the bench, and by reading his lips, he isn’t a happy camper. Matthew wins the face-off in the Philly zone, passing it back to Zack, and then Zack passes it to the other defenseman who passes it in the corner to Phil. Phil passes it back to the defenseman, who slides it to Zack who is in his spot lifting his stick and burying the puck in the back of the net with a one timer.
I throw my hands in the air, celebrating while Jack gets up on the couch, jumping over to me give me a high-five. “That’s my dad,” he tells me, and I just smile as he sits next to me. My arm goes around him, and he cuddles in close. We watch the rest of the game, and by the third period, my eyes have closed for just a second. I know I should get up and get going before it gets later, but Michael and Jack are dissecting the game. I look over at Shirley, who is lying on the couch with her eyes closed. Just for five minutes. I’ll just rest them and then we will go, I tell myself.
I feel someone playing in my hair. Opening my eyes, I look at the person who just moved the hair from my face. “Hey,” Zack says with a smile.
“What time is it?” I look around and see I’m on the couch lying down, spooning Jack while Michael snores from the bottom of my feet.
“It’s a little after two,” he says, and I look into his eyes and realize that I’ve missed him. “I just sent my mom up.”
“We must have fallen asleep watching the game,” I tell him. I get up on my elbow and look around, blinking my eyes to stay awake. “I need to get an Uber.”
“Wow, we must really be boring.” He laughs. “It’s two a.m. You aren’t taking an Uber,” he says quietly, getting up and grabbing Michael. “I’m going to put Michael in Jack’s bed. You two can crash in there, and Jack can sleep with me.”
I watch him walk out of the room and get up, grabbing Jack in my arms and following him upstairs. He walks out of Jack’s room and sees me holding Jack as I walk into his room. “Which side do you sleep on?” I ask him.
“Always closest to the door,” he says, so I walk around the bed to place Jack next to the window. I grab a couple of pillows, placing it beside him.
“I could go home,” I say, going to him and standing in front of him.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” he says, his eyes roaming over me.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. Jack gave it to me.” I’m suddenly feeling a little bit flustered. “Mine got soaked when I was giving the boys a bath.”
“Looks better on you than me,” he says quietly.
“I’m sorry we crashed here,” I tell him, and he moves closer to me.
“I can’t say I’m sorry you’re here,” he tells me softly. “Not one little bit.”
“Good night, Zack,” I say and turn to walk away from him before I climb him like a monkey in front of his son. When my hand grazes his, he wraps his fingers into mine softly, and when I look down, the tips of our fingers barely touch, but I know I felt it.