Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I let my daughter douse me with half her bathwater while playing submarines, made sure she was clean and took her out of the tub to which she objected. “You’ll turn into a prune princess. Let’s go read your favorite book.” She clapped her hands and squealed as we headed to her room.
I got her powdered and dressed before tucking her into bed and sitting next to her for story time. Down the hall I could hear her mother going through much the same thing with our son. Poor kid was out within ten minutes and I felt guilty.
I make it a point to be here every evening. The housekeeper slash babysitter leaves every evening at five and I don’t like leaving my family here alone after she’s gone. But today couldn’t be helped. I’d gone back to work after they’d begged me to return, apparently not many people had my expertise. I knew it was because of friends in high places that they’d called me back.
I’d turned them down at first because of all the travelling, but they’d worked around that. They’d let the new kids on the block handle the travel and I could stay home with my family. Today I’d had the meeting from hell, something new was jumping off in the IC world that needed my special attention and I’d wanted to get a head start since it was a viable threat to the country.
I kissed her forehead and felt all the love I had in me for this little person. When she sighed and cuddled into her pillow, I turned on her nightlight and pulled her door halfway closed so I could hear her if she needed me in the night. I walked into my son’s room where he and my wife were having a conversation instead of reading.
That was their thing, ever since he was his sister’s age. He had a vivid imagination and a million questions. I sat on the bed next to him as his mom sat on the chair she’d pulled up next to his bed. “What’s tonight’s topic of conversation?” You never know with these two.
It could be the conflict in Syria or why he couldn’t have cake for breakfast. “The Native Americans.”
“They’re teaching him that already? What is he twelve, fifteen?” The kid scares me. I’d been a bit of a brain in my day, but he had me beat. I had a feeling his sister was going to be even scarier, she was already asking questions that her daddy had no answers for. Like how the baby got in mommy’s tummy. She wasn’t going to know the answer to that until she was thirty if I had anything to say about it.
“No, we went to the library after I picked him up from school and he chose a book on the Cherokee.” My gut knotted at her casual mention of driving to the school but I didn’t let on in front of our son. I listened to their voices drone on as I dealt with my unease.
I hate for her to drive unless I’m there with her, and I especially do not allow her to get behind the wheel when she’s this pregnant. I still have lingering fears of what had happened to my wife and son all those years ago. I knew for a fact that I wouldn’t survive that hell a second time around.
I didn’t realize Junior was fading until she reached for my hand. I kissed my boy goodnight and followed her out of the room with my hand in hers. I waited until we were in the kitchen and I’d had some time to calm down before broaching the subject.
“You drove?” She was in the middle of taking our food from the warmer and turned to look at me.
“No honey, Lea was having one of her tantrums so she and I took the drive with May. Stop worrying, I promised didn’t I?” I breathed easy again and went to set the table.
“Sit baby I got it.” I took the plates from her hands and placed them at our places on the cozy table in the breakfast nook before going to the fridge to get her favorite juice and something for me to drink. No way was I drinking that concoction. The shit was green. Probably kale or some other nasty shit that has no place in a blender.
We held hands as we ate, something I never thought I’d have again. In fact that was something new between her and I. I’d stopped feeling guilty for all the new things I shared with her. Things that I’d taken for granted the first time around I no longer did.
I stayed on top of her and the kids, and because she knew where I was coming from, it didn’t make her crazy. I keep them close, my little family, seeing to their every need. I watch over the three of them like every day might be the last. I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow that, but I’ve learned to live with what she calls my overprotective gene.