Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“That sounds great. He’ll love it.”
“Dad, you can come too, if you’d like,” I offered. “We can go after your nap.”
“Okay.” Then he leaned toward Elliott. “That’s another thing. They make you take naps here.”
“I hate naps,” said Elliott.
Maddie gave her son a piercing look. “That’s enough. Eat.”
Throughout the meal, Elliott jabbered away about feeding the animals and gathering eggs, my father interrupted with stories about baseball, and Maddie listened intently to them both. She also repeated her name for my dad at least three times but never with a trace of impatience.
As for me, I mostly stayed silent. I was often quiet in a crowd, not because I was bored or inattentive, but because I never felt the need to hear myself talk, and I learned a lot about other people by observing them. For instance, I could tell Maddie was a loving, playful mom who always maintained her sense of humor while still being firm about the rules. I could tell that she’d raised a polite, sensitive, inquisitive child. I could tell that my dad felt comfortable with them and wanted to impress them too. He trotted out his Willie Mays catch as well as the time he’d hit a grand slam to win the state tournament his senior year of high school. (At least that one was true.)
“That reminds me,” Dad went on, looking at Maddie. “You think you can give me a ride to the train station today?”
“I think maybe we can fit that in,” she said companionably. “But I’ll definitely need you to show me around town first. It’s been a long time since I went shopping in Bellamy Creek. I won’t know where anything is.”
My dad looked pleased. “I can do that. I’ve lived here all my life. I won’t even need a map.”
“Great! After I get these breakfast dishes done, we’ll head out.”
“I’ll go get dressed,” he said, pushing back from the table.
“You want help, Dad?” I asked.
He gave me a look like I was nuts, even though I laid out his clothes every single day. “No! And you better hurry up, or you’ll miss the bus.”
I watched him head for his room and shook my head. Any other day, I might have tried to give him a reality check. Demanded to know if he looked at me and saw a schoolboy or a full-grown man. Today I was able to take a breath and smile. “He’ll probably come out in his pajamas. I’ll check on him in a minute.”
“Can I be excused?” asked Elliott. “I finished.”
Maddie examined his plate. “Yes, you may. But please take your dish carefully over to the sink and put it on the counter. Then go upstairs and brush your teeth.”
He gave her an exasperated look but dutifully slid off the chair and went to the sink, carrying the plate with both hands.
“Thanks for offering to stay with my dad today,” I said when we were alone. “I can’t tell you how helpful it is that I won’t have to be worried about him all afternoon.”
“I’m so glad,” she said, laying her fork and knife on her empty plate and rising to her feet. “I don’t mind at all, and I’d much rather spend the day window-shopping downtown than yanking weeds at my mother’s place.”
“But we should get on that,” I told her, stacking some dishes and following her into the kitchen. “Maybe tomorrow.”
She nodded, placing her dish in the sink and then standing still for a moment, looking out the window above it.
I went back to the dining table, grabbing the skillet, the toast plate, and the empty fruit bowl. When I returned, she was still standing there.
“You okay?” I asked, setting everything down on the counter.
“I’m fine.” She cleared her throat and turned around, her smile sheepish. “This is going to sound so dumb, but I really enjoyed this morning.”
“What about it?”
“Everything. Waking up early. Seeing Elliott so excited. Cooking breakfast. Sitting around a table and taking the time to talk and listen while we ate. Enjoying each other’s company without rushing off somewhere. It felt like . . .” She struggled for the words and tossed her hands up. “Like how I always imagined having a family would be.”
“Oh.”
“Growing up, it was just my mother and me at mealtimes,” she went on, “and mostly all she did was criticize or warn me what would happen if I let up on myself. I can’t tell you how many times I wished for a dad who’d make bad jokes or a brother who’d kick me under the table.”
“Or a sister. Sisters kick too,” I told her.
She laughed. “A sister would have been great. I’d have liked any siblings. I wanted more kids too, but Sam didn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her shoulders rose. “Maybe I’m just meant to have Elliott, and I’m fine with that. I love being his mom and I get to take care of kids at work too. But I still wanted—this,” she finished, gesturing to the room around us. “Sam rarely ate breakfast with us. He was out of the house every morning before Elliott and I were even awake because he liked getting a workout in before going to the office. And he came home too late every night to have dinner with Elliott and me. It got lonely.”