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)
“Oh my god,” Denise says through her fingers. “This has to be a dream.” Her hands leave her face as she looks at me, and I try not to smile at the redness on her face. “It’s a nightmare.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her.
“It is not fine. Your mom just caught us making out on the couch.”
She sits up now.
“Trust me, that was not us making out,” I tell her as my hands go to her lap. “I’ll show you what us making out is later.” I wink at her, and she looks at me with her mouth open. I stand, bending down to peck her lips, and she kisses me back.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she says, finally getting up as Jack runs into the living room.
“I’m going to set the table all by myself,” he says and then runs back out.
“Zack.” She turns to me. “We ...” And she stops talking when I walk to her and move her hair off her shoulder, so I can hold her neck in my hands.
“Later,” I tell her, then lean in and kiss her softly. Moving back, I look into her eyes and see the storm brewing. I see the battle she’s fighting, and for the first time, I know it’s a battle she is going to lose. Life is too short not to live to its fullest, and I want to live life.
“No more kisses,” she says softly. “Not in front of your mother or Jack.”
“Agreed,” I tell her. “For tonight,” I say and walk away, grabbing her hand.
“What does that mean?” she asks, and I don’t answer because we walk into the kitchen, and my mother is taking a tray out of the oven.
“What can I do to help?” I ask my mother, who sets the tray down on the stove, turning and smiling at us.
“Nothing,” she says, and there is no judgment in her eyes, no frown, no nothing, but love.
“Shirley,” Denise starts, “what you walked in on.”
She shakes her head. “We are not talking about it. We are going to sit down and have a great meal. I’m going to enjoy the happiness that has come over my son and my grandson,” she says, blinking, “and I’m going to try not to cry with missing them already.”
Denise leaves my side and goes to my mother. “No tears,” she says. “Besides”—she motions with her head—“I bet you that one can book you many flights on that little phone of his.” She laughs with my mother. “If he can buy a car, he can book a trip.” She puts her arm around her shoulder and then looks at me. “Your mother should visit more often.”
“I agree,” I tell her. “Let me check my schedule and we can go from there.”
“That sounds like a plan,” my mother says, eyes full of tears that she blinks away.
“Are we eating?” We hear Jack yell from the dining room, and we all laugh.
“Let’s go sit and the big man can bring the tray into the room,” my mother says, and she and Denise walk out of the kitchen with their arms wrapped around each other.
I smile at them; my mother never had a daughter since I was their only child, and when she got a daughter-in-law, I know she was hoping to have a special bond with her, but Chantal wasn’t one who wanted the motherly touch.
We eat dinner while my mother tells stories from my childhood, but instead of groaning and begging her to stop, I want her to tell them. I want Denise to know all about when I was young. I want her to know that I sucked my thumb till my mother put pepper on it when I was ten.
When we finish most of the Shepherd’s Pie, Jack asks my mom to give him a bath.
“I’m going to drive Denise home,” I tell them. “Then I’ll come back and tuck you in,” I tell Jack.
“I can take an Uber.” She looks at me, and I just glance at her sideways. “Or not.”
She gets up, bringing the plates to the kitchen while my mother and Jack follow her.
“Thank you so much for letting me hang with you and Jack during your visit,” Denise tells my mother, hugging her.
“I can’t wait to come back, and we can go to that spa you were telling me about. The one where the fish eat your dead skin.”
“Yes,” Denise says, her eyes wide as she smiles. “It’s a date.” She turns to look at Jack. “You get to relax for the next two weeks and then the magic starts.”
“I’m going to have superpowers?” he says, flexing his little arms, and Denise just nods her head.
We walk to the front door where she puts on her jacket. “You really don’t have to drive me.”
I lean down and kiss her lips. “You really need to stop talking.”