Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“A lot of people do that,” I said. “Or they start working somewhere they aren’t allowed to have them, and then come back to be repierced when they switch jobs.”
“I’m a stay-at-home mom, now,” she said, shrugging. “So that’s not really a deal breaker for me anymore.”
“That sounds nice,” I replied, unsure what the common response was. I couldn’t imagine being able to stay home with Etta. Would I like to? Maybe. I’d just never been in a position where money came without a shit-load of hard work.
“It’s been an adjustment,” Ani said conspiratorially. “But honestly, I love it. It was really hard leaving her all day.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling,” I agreed.
“At some point, I may want to go back—”
“No you won’t,” Abraham cut in with a smile, clearly teasing. “You’ll just want to add a couple more.”
“He’s probably right,” Ani grumbled. “I can’t help it. Give me all the babies.”
The entire group laughed.
“I’d like to have more at some point,” I said, once it was relatively quiet again. “But Etta’s a handful as it is.”
“Me no handful,” Etta said absentmindedly, stuffing ground-beef pieces into her mouth. “Me Etta.”
“Right,” I agreed drily.
“I’m just going to watch everyone else have them, enjoy them while I’m around, and go home to my quiet house when I’m done,” my sister chimed in, lifting her drink into the air like she was saluting us.
“I was pretty sure that would be my future, too,” Ani said quietly, looking at Abraham in a way that made me feel like I was intruding by witnessing it. “But life takes some crazy turns.”
“Amen to that,” Trevor said, speaking up for the first time in a while.
“I can’t have kids,” Ani said matter-of-factly. “Arielle’s adopted.”
“No, really?” my sister said in mock surprise, making me nearly choke on my drink. I glanced at the happy baby on her dad’s lap. She had much darker skin than both her parents, but I never would have even thought about it until Ani threw the fact into our conversation.
“I know, right?” Ani said, laughing a little. “She’s way too pretty to come from us.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Abraham said, leaning back in his chair. “Shut up.”
“I know, but you’re practically a gargoyle,” Ani shot back, making a face at him.
I smiled behind my glass. Abraham was many things, but he was about as far from one of those ugly statues as any man I’d ever seen. The guy could be a model.
“Good thing I’m fantastic in bed.”
“And that’s where I stop this conversation,” Trevor said, setting his napkin on top of his plate. “I don’t want to hear about any of that.”
“I’d be willing to listen,” my sister joked.
The smile on her face was worth every moment I’d spent with the unwelcome visitors. It was worth the disappointment I’d felt when I realized Trevor had introduced my daughter to people I didn’t know. That small smile was a glimpse at the sister I knew, the one who breezed through life. My breath caught in my throat and I tried really hard not to let myself show any reaction.
Half an hour later the kitchen was clean, my sister was back in her room with a sleepy Etta, and Anita, Bram, and Arielle had left after a friendly round of hugs. The visit hadn’t been as bad as I’d expected, but I was still worn out. It had been such a long day.
I was on the front porch sitting in a lawn chair when Trevor found me.
“How you holding up?” he asked as he carried Koda onto the porch and set him down to investigate the area.
“Fine,” I murmured, staring out at the trees. His driveway was long and winding, and even when I tried I couldn’t see the main road from the house. I couldn’t see any other houses, either, which was kind of surprising since I knew both his parents’ house and his uncle and aunt’s house weren’t very far away. The place was totally secluded.
“You mad?” He sat down on the top step and leaned against the railing, his long legs stretched out in front of him.
“Should I be?”
“Come on, Morgan,” he said quietly. “Let’s not play that game, all right?”
“What game?” My shoulders grew tense as I continued to look into the woods.
“The game where you shut me out and refuse to talk about anything? That one? You remember it?”
“Please,” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest.
I really didn’t want to have the conversation we were having. I didn’t want to talk anything out or even acknowledge that there was a problem. I wanted to stew. I wanted to sit there in the quiet and decide for myself how I felt about everything that had happened. I fucking hated confrontation of any kind. It made my skin crawl and my heart race.