Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
I’ve been telling them for the past few weeks that we’re moving. With a glance, I can see that Parker has found a million-dollar home. He might as well be saying he wants me to fly him to the moon on my back. “Can we move here? It has a basketball hoop!”
Before I can let him down gently, Chase sneers at his brother. “Stop being a dummy.”
Parker’s expression falls. He’s still so little, so sensitive to the slightest cutdown from his older brother.
I send Chase a warning glance. “Let him be. He's just dreaming. There's nothing wrong with dreaming.”
Chase cuts his gaze to me, disdain dripping from his expression. “It's for rich people. Rich people with a mom who likes them.”
As soon as he says the words, venom dripping from them, my heart squeezes in my chest. The familiar grief for all the things I can’t give them fills me.
At the same time, anger surges through me. My mom should be here. She should be the one protecting and comforting the boys. But she’s not. All my brothers have is me, so I clear my throat and say, “I like you guys. You are the most amazing and sweet boys in the whole world.”
“Whatever.” Chase jabs at the button on his headphones, and some rock anthem begins blasting. He stomps to the bed and throws himself down on it, furiously texting on the phone with his classmates.
Parker doesn’t say anything. He swipes the picture on the tablet closed and brings up the homework app. His shoulders are stooped, and he’s not looking at me anymore. I don’t have to see his expression to know his eyes are filled with tears. Someday, there won’t be tears. There will be rage, just like there is with Chase. I don’t know which is worse.
I take the vacant seat. Parker is a smart kid, but I try to sit with him every night and work on a few of the math problems together. I want him to feel like he has someone looking after him, taking care of him.
We work together in silence for twenty minutes before Parker says in a small voice, “Family Day is next month at school.”
Chase’s earlier outburst makes even more sense now. “I’ll be there.”
Parker shrugs. “Nathan says his mom and dad will be there. Plus, his aunts, uncles, and cousins. All I have is one stinky sister.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat and work to make sure my voice comes out evenly, “Our family looks different, but that doesn't mean it's any less special.”
“It's not very big.”
There’s a special kind of hurt that comes from seeing a big, loving family when your own is so small and so broken. “No, but we have each other.”
Parker thinks for a minute. “Can we make it bigger?”
Chase glances up from the bed, and I see the flicker of fear on his face. I guess he cut off his headphones. He does that sometimes. Turns them on to make me think he’s not listening only to turn them off later. Our lives have been filled with so much uncertainty that I can’t blame him for his tendency to eavesdrop on conversations.
“Not…not right now,” I say softly.
Relief flickers across Chase’s face. He let it slip a few days ago that when we lived with Spencer, he was always threatening to turn the boys over to child protective services. He’d take great delight in telling Chase how he’d be ripped away from me and Parker. If I’d known that, I would have done more than just break the asshole’s nose as I left.
“Maybe one day our family will look different,” I tell the boys softly.
Chase goes back to his phone, content that he’s not getting shipped off somewhere. After he told me what Spencer used to say, I reassured him that I’d never let anyone take him away from me.
Parker thinks for a moment. “When we’re a big family, then we can have a house?”
I nod despite the heaviness in my heart. “I promise I will get you a house one day. You'll have a bed of your own and a basketball hoop.”
After I’ve put the boys down for bed, I crawl into the other one and stretch out. My phone dings on the nightstand, and I reach for it. My stomach is in knots. Spencer calls me sometimes. I never answer, and he leaves voice messages. Sometimes they’re apologetic. Sometimes, they’re angry rants. I never know which to expect.
Unknown Number: Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep well.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown Number: Your future husband.
Me: You mean the delusional cowboy from earlier?
Unknown Number: Persistent cowboy.
Me: Sounds the same to me. Goodnight, bossy cowboy.
Even though he’s a crazy person, I can’t help falling asleep with a smile. I’d never admit to him, but he’s kind of growing on me.