Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 44850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 224(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
There I said it.
That woman’s mind can work in ways that even I can’t keep up with and that’s with most of my family saying I’m just like my mother.
“How’s my baby girl?” I turn to look at Jansen as he walks toward me. I go willingly into his open arms.
“Hey, Dad.”
He hugs me close, and I breathe in his scent. Jansen might not be my dad by blood, but he’s truly the only one I’ve ever known. He always called me his baby, too. Heck, he’s always claimed all my brothers and sisters as his. He never blinked when asked that question. He never missed a ballgame, a cheer competition, or even boring award ceremonies at school. Jansen has always made my mother and us his priority. I don’t remember Orville—my birth father. While I am curious about him, I could not and would not want to imagine my life without Jansen. He's corrected me when I was wrong, held me when I was hurt and let me cry on him when some boy broke my heart. He’s also let me vent when my mother goes crazy, and this party is something we both despise.
“Couldn’t you have distracted her from this horrible shindig,” I mutter.
“Trust me, I tried,” he mumbles with a grimace. I imagine he did. I mean, no man wants to be reminded of a day his wife created a baby with another guy—or at least I’d imagine they wouldn’t. “Like all things with your mother, however, I pick my battles. Besides, we both know she has this party to irritate you.”
“And she succeeded yet again.”
“You might as well act like you enjoy it. If you do, she’ll stop.”
“You’re a saint to put up with her this long,” I huff.
“We’d all be lost without her, and you know it.”
I give him a smile because he’s right.
“We would,” I admit softly.
“How are you, honey?”
“I’m good, Dad. You and Mom need to stop worrying about me.”
“You took your job back at the nursing home, despite making good money on your writing.”
“I make good money but not enough. I want to have enough in the bank so that I can travel and write. I don’t want to have to worry, you know?”
“Your mother and I would always help you if things got tight—you know that.”
“I know, but I need to do it my way. My plan is to live the life I want and do it while standing on my own two feet.”
“You’re just as stubborn as your mother. She’s the reason my hair is gray.”
“You used to blame it on me or one of my brothers or sisters.”
“Well, you guys didn’t exactly help,” he jokes.
“Isn’t that a kid’s job? We make lives difficult for parents.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“And that right there is why I’m never having children,” I laugh.
“That’d be a shame.”
My head jerks up, my body rigid, my face surely reflecting surprise. “What are you doing here?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“I’m here to celebrate your birthday, Ace,” Slater says. “Also, did you know there’s a cow out front wearing a party hat and a pink boa?” he asks, looking behind him with a look of shock on his face, shaking his head.
I ignore his question about Hamburger. I don’t really know how to explain my mother’s pet cow and it’s not like Slater and I will ever be more than passing acquaintances.
“How did you know about the party?” I ask instead, my eyes narrowing.
I didn’t want to see him again. My body reacts in strange and tingly ways whenever he’s around. Slater’s bad news. I’m not going to be stupid enough fall for a player who will end up sliding into my heart and breaking it. He could do that. The man is just off limits. You can’t travel the world when your heart is back in Texas smashed into a million pieces.
“That’d be me. He’s my plus one. I told him I prefer my dates to wear pretty dresses, but the bastard refused. Happy Birthday, Mary,” Parker says, coming in to kiss my cheek and give me a hug.
“You should have brought Faye,” I grumble. “She would look better in a dress.”
“I tell you what, Ace, if you agree to go out with me, I’ll show you how good I can look naked instead,” Slater purrs, making me shake my head.
“Mary,” Jansen says, his voice in that growly and grumpy tone that tells me he’s close to snapping. It’s a timbre that I’ve become very familiar with over the years. It would probably serve Slater right if I turned him loose.
“It’s okay, Dad. Bat-Boy thinks he’s being funny, but he’s harmless.”
“Bat-Boy?” Slater responds, and you can tell he doesn’t like the name—which proves I’m my mother’s child because I plan on using it constantly now.