Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68594 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Bragging rights,” I interjected. “When I was a kid, that was the biggest deal.”
“Shut up, John. I’m telling the story,” Laura demanded.
I held up my hands in supplication.
“Anyway, John had taken the bike apart and put it back together, making some adjustments. He was sure he’d win. He rode it to the cliff and challenged Craig, who was the current ‘reigning champ.’ But John hadn’t quite tightened everything as well as he should…” She paused dramatically. “As he barreled toward the cliff, the handlebars came off. He went one way, and the bike took off, sailing through the air like a glider. Over the cliff and through the air a long way before sinking into the lake.” She smirked. “Even John stood and watched it.”
“It was impressive,” I admitted with a sheepish shrug. “I had no idea it could fly like that.”
“Oh my,” Quinn said, trying to hold in a laugh.
“I remember wondering if I was bleeding enough that my dad would sympathize, or if he’d whoop my butt for being so stupid.”
Abby’s eyes went wide. “Oh no! You were bleeding? Farmer John, were you killed?”
Laughing, I swung her up on my knee. “Nope.” I pulled up my shirt sleeve. “But I got this scar.” Then I touched my eyebrow. “And this one, plus a big one on my knee. The bike sank, and we never recovered it.”
“Oh no,” Quinn murmured.
“My dad decided that, plus more chores, would be my punishment. And I had to go back to my old bike. I didn’t get a new one for a year.” I laughed. “I think Dad only relented ’cause I had a growth spurt and I kept hitting my knees on the handlebars, and Mom nagged him all the time.”
“Any more cliff races?” Quinn asked.
“Nope. I learned my lesson. Next time I went to the cliff was to make out with Jenny Stait.”
“What’s make out?” Abby asked.
“Oh, um, we snuggled.”
“Oh, like you did with Momma last night in her bed?”
The entire room became silent.
“What?” Quinn asked, her voice an octave higher. “You mean when we were sitting together during the storm, right?”
“No, Momma.” Abby shook her head, impatient. “Later. I woke up in my bed and I came to see you, but you and Farmer John were snuggling in your bed. I knew you were okay, so I went back to my bed.” She smiled. “You were having a sleepover!”
For a moment, I couldn’t find my voice. We thought we’d been so careful. I hadn’t heard Abby get up. Or the bedroom door open. I had been too exhausted from fucking her mother for hours.
What if she’d gotten up while—
I couldn’t bring myself to finish the thought or the consequences it would have brought.
Cody unwittingly saved the day. “Oh—ha-ha-ha,” he laughed. “Uncle John does that. He sometimes tucks me in and falls asleep too! Remember last time, Uncle J? You rolled off my bed, and you never even woke up.”
Everyone laughed, the relief on Quinn’s face evident.
Cody leaned his elbows on the table. “When Uncle J took me to Toronto last year for my birthday, there was only one bed in the room, and we shared it. He didn’t fall off ’cause it was, like, the biggest bed I’ve ever seen, but he snored.”
I shook my head. “I was tired, bud. You wore me out.”
“What did you do there?” Quinn asked.
“We went to a baseball game and the aquarium,” Cody told her. “And the coolest restaurant where I could see everything. It was the best day ever!”
“The CN Tower,” I explained. “He wanted to see a game. I thought the aquarium would be cool. We looked around in the morning, had lunch at the CN Tower, the aquarium in the afternoon, and a baseball game in the evening. We were both exhausted.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Did you ever go? Since you lived there?” Laura asked.
Quinn looked sad. “No.” She glanced at Abby, who was busy chatting with Cody. “My, ah, ex didn’t do ‘fun’ things. Our schedule was pretty set.”
“Well, maybe you can one day.” Laura looked at me meaningfully, and I nodded slightly in her direction. It was a good idea I would have to think about. I was grateful, though, that Cody’s story had shifted the focus off Quinn and me and our “sleepover.”
“Maybe,” Quinn said with a smile.
Laura and Quinn insisted on clearing the table. Bob fell asleep on the sofa, and I headed outside, hearing the kids laughing. I crossed the yard, going to the back. Cody was pushing Abby in the old tire swing I had put up for him years before. She was laughing as she soared, but my heart hit my throat when I saw how high. I hurried forward, waving at him to stop.
“What, Uncle J? She’s having fun.”
“I know. I haven’t checked the rope lately.”