Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Sandra had seen it and suggested a contract. First and foremost, to make sure I got custody should anything happen to them, and secondly, in an attempt to give me some rights. I’d always liked contracts. They were insurance. They were security. She’d known that too. And so, we signed an agreement that would grant me one weekend a month and a couple weeks in the summer when Julia had grown out of the newborn phase.
Everyone was happy again, and the vise around my chest had loosened.
“The day you were born, it was love at first sight.” I gathered Julia’s hand and kissed the top of it before I tucked it under the duvet. She was asleep. “I understood that being an uncle and godfather would never be enough.”
I’d kept it to myself for three months. Three excruciating months. Then I started planning how to tell Sandra and Mona. Hell, I’d been ready to beg. I’d invited them over for dinner the following weekend.
We never got that far.
Definitely needed a drink now. After kissing Julia on the forehead, I rolled off the bed with a grunt and reluctantly faced Peyton.
I met him in the doorway, where he slipped his hand into mine and looked down at our fingers.
“How did they die?” he asked quietly.
“Car accident. They were out test-driving an ugly fucking minivan.”
Julia had been with Sandra’s mother for the afternoon.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” he whispered.
“Edward.” I cleared my throat and peered down at our hands too. “We’re off the clock.”
“Okay.”
I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted to hear my name fall off his lips.
“I need a drink,” I said instead. “But now you know.”
It was a good thing I didn’t know Peyton back then. I’d barely been human. In my darkest days, the guilt had threatened to consume me, and I’d been half convinced that I’d subconsciously wished for Sandra and Mona to die.
I knew better these days, of course, but the mind could play tricks that hurt more than a gunshot wound.
“For what it’s worth,” he murmured, “your friends couldn’t have left Julia in better hands.”
I swallowed hard, unable to respond, and lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. Then I let go and trailed outside.
Four drinks took the edge off.
Cathryn stopped after her last glass of wine and promised she’d move Julia to her bedroom later.
I appreciated it immensely and poured my fifth, this time a rum and no Coke.
Mathis was quizzing Peyton about his radio show. Specifically, the Vietnam War.
“He’s done at least four episodes on that,” I said. I couldn’t know if there were more, as only the past twenty shows were available on the radio network’s website.
Peyton grinned curiously. “How would you know?”
“Because I’ve listened to them.” I took a swig. “I like that you go all the way back. Otherwise, you can’t understand the war. I’ve seen so many documentaries that start with JFK, but you have to go back to Woodrow Wilson and when Ho Chi Minh tried to meet with him—and you do that.”
Mathis nodded in agreement. “I’ll have to check them out.”
I tipped my glass at Peyton, who was watching me with a pinch of amusement and wonder. “You should host your own podcast instead. You’d have a much bigger reach.” Fuck, I almost spilled. Almost. I didn’t. “He’s amazing,” I told Mathis. “He had me hooked after five minutes.”
“Christ,” Peyton chuckled. The sweet boy was blushing. “How many drinks have you had?”
“As long as I can keep track, not enough.” I winked.
I was intoxicated but not drunk. Yet. I was just…loosening up a bit. Thinking about Sandra and Mona required some therapy afterward, and this was therapy. Sitting out here on the terrace, hearing music from the pool area, other guests enjoying their vacations around us… I felt better now.
Mathis stole Peyton’s attention again with more questions about war history, and I stole the bag of chips on the table.
“I think that’s my cue to say goodnight,” Cathryn decided. “It’s enough that I have to listen to Tom go on and on and on about World War II.”
“Tom’s a good man,” I replied with a nod.
“He has his moments.” Cathryn smirked wryly and dipped down to kiss my cheek. “Go get him, Edward.”
Oh, of course she knew. I shook my head but couldn’t help but smile.
“Goodnight, everyone.” She picked up her sandals and headed inside.
“Night, dear. I owe you a dance,” I told her.
“I don’t know what for, but I’ll hold you to it.” She grinned and slid the door closed.
Mathis, Peyton, and I spent the next hour or so lost in conversations about the historical events and people we admired and were fascinated by one way or another. Peyton and I had a lot in common, particularly where World War II was concerned, but where he went full-on adorable geek on the Civil War and colonial times in Africa, I preferred the political mind games of the Cold War.