Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“You’re right.” I pressed a kiss to his chin. “Thank you. It’s no wonder she loves you more than me.”
He chuckled and knocked his forehead to mine. “You know that’s not true.”
“It feels like that when she’s busting my balls all the time and never yours.”
I was right. I knew I was right. End of story.
“Did you get my onion rings, Daddy?” Ellie peered back as I loaded up the trunk with takeout.
“I got ’em.” Five bags filled with burgers, fries, onion rings, shakes, sodas, wings, mozzarella sticks, and one plain cheese pizza. This was after we’d stopped at a fuckin’ 7-Eleven to buy “dessert.” As in, chocolate bars, chips, and cookies. Happy fucking Thanksgiving.
“Yessss!” Ellie was way too triumphant. “No gross Thanksgiving food!”
I stared at her. “You’re basing that on the sole fact that you don’t like cranberry sauce. It makes no sense. You like turkey, you like mashed potatoes, you like—”
“It’s grooo-oooss,” she sang.
“You can be gross,” I snapped.
“Hey!” she yelled. “You can’t say that to your kids, man!”
Oh, whatever. I slammed the door shut and pulled up my coat a bit. The rain was coming down heavier.
Once back in the passenger’s seat, I did my best to avoid West’s look. I bet he was giving me a look. He always gave me a look.
I looked out the window instead.
“I’m glad you’re not feeling tense or anything,” he drawled and started the engine.
I wasn’t tense. I was never tense. He could be tense.
We continued toward my folks’, which was just a few blocks away from here, but it took us several minutes to find a parking spot and then carry all our shit to Mom and Dad’s building. Plus, the fucking elevator was broken, so we had to lug it all up the stairs.
Maybe I was a little tense after all. Dad had been audibly relieved to hear we were coming to them instead, but he’d offered very few details about Mom. Knowing her, she’d waved her fists around and demanded he didn’t reveal how she was really doing.
I was out of breath by the time I reached the landing, and Ellie pounded on the door.
“It’s me, Nonna!” she hollered, her voice echoing.
We heard Mom on the other side.
“You get the door. I am not dressed to entertain!”
Had he just told her we were coming, or what?
Dad opened the door and smiled as Ellie rushed forward to hug him. “Hey, li’l sprite. How you doin’?”
“I’m good! Where’s Nonna? Nonna!” She didn’t wait. She ran in.
He chuckled and turned back to us, and he was quick to offer to grab some of the bags. “Come on in, son,” he said. “Mom’s getting ready. I told her youse were on your way when she was done in the shower, so she’s been cursing me out ever since.”
Of course, of course.
“I haven’t cleaned!” Mom yelled from somewhere. Probably their bedroom.
“How’s she doing?” I asked quietly. Trip headed in too, kicking off his shoes and jacket. “No bullshit. She havin’ nightmares?”
Dad nodded with a dip of his chin. “I told her this morning we could cancel, but you know how she is.”
Sure did.
“Did she really have a fever?” I set down the rest of the bags on the floor and let West walk past me.
“Nah. She has a mild cold,” he replied. “I just figured the excuse of being sick might be more comfortable for her. You know.”
Yeah, it made sense.
In that case, I had some work to do, where I had to overstep some boundaries.
While West and Dad entertained the kids and set up the food in the living room, I made quick work of stripping down to my T-shirt and boxer briefs. Then I pulled out my sweats from a bag—never mind, those were West’s. There. I grabbed mine and stepped into them.
West and I weren’t fucking around. We were here for a night of takeout and watching movies.
As I headed to my folks’ bedroom, I messed up my hair and hollered for the kids to go change into jammies.
They thought the prospect of a pajama party was fun.
I knocked on the bedroom door. “Ma? You decent?”
“No! I’m in my robe!”
Eh, decent enough.
I opened it carefully, just a few inches, and saw she was covered up.
She glared at me, busy brushing her hair. “Your father told me ten minutes ago. Ten minutes! That is how long it takes to remove the plastic from this stupid thing.” She gestured at the boot brace thing. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“Because this is the dress code for tonight.” I walked over to her and gently took away the hairbrush. Don’t think about the video, don’t think about the video. “Come on. You’re good to go.”
She scoffed but didn’t protest too much when I ushered her out. “What are you talking about?”
West met us in the hallway with a smile. “Hi, Giulia. I’m just gonna go change.”