Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 86444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“I don’t know. My Friday night isn’t any different from my Wednesday night.” I laugh. “Literally, the same thing.”
“What would your Friday nights be like before Ariella?” she asks. Normally, I would cut people off at this point. I learned really early that no one could be trusted. I opened a bit to Cassie, but even with her, I stopped at a point, which is what many of our fights were about.
“Um, I was down with Netflix and chill before Netflix and chill became a good idea,” I say, chuckling. “Making a nice dinner at home, turning on the television, and just watching a movie.”
“What type of dinner?” she asks. Placing her computer down on the bed, she lies on her side as she talks to me. “I’m visual.”
“I don’t really have a favorite meal,” I say, and she shrieks.
“Impossible! Everyone has a favorite meal.” She laughs. “If you were given one meal to eat for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
“I have no idea.” I shrug. “What about you?” I should thank her for the day and hang up the phone and just move on. The right side of my head tells me this is a bad idea at the same time the left side of my head tells me to shut up.
“Shrimp scampi,” she says without missing a beat. “Or pizza.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had shrimp scampi,” I say, and she slaps the bed, making me laugh.
“Shut up.” She gasps out.
“Is it good?” I ask her, now at ease with the way the conversation is going.
“It’s only the best thing you will ever eat in your whole life,” she says. “Like your whole life.”
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll look up recipes and make it.”
“How about I make it for lunch tomorrow?” she asks. “We can eat and then talk about the list I sent you.”
“I don’t want you to go out of your way,” I say, the tightness in my chest slowly creeping back in. “It’s fine.”
“If I can have any excuse to eat it, I will. So technically.” She smiles at the camera. “You’re doing me a favor.”
“Is that right?” I say.
“It is,” she says. “I’m going to come over tomorrow at eleven. Is that okay?” she asks, and I nod. “I’ll start preparing, and then we can eat right before we start the meeting. It should only be a couple of hours.”
“Don’t you have other things to do on a Saturday?” I ask, wanting to know if she is with someone, and if she isn’t, why? How could someone as perfect as her not be with anyone?
“My Saturdays are spent going to the market, and then sometimes, I have brunch with Layla,” she says, and I suddenly want to know who Layla is. But is it fair for her to be so open with me and I be who I am? “What about you, Sherlock?” She uses the nickname. “What do you do on Saturday?”
“Well,” I say, smiling. “Saturday is a big day in the Weber house.”
“Really?” she asks, rolling her lips.
“It is,” I say. “It’s nail cutting day and ear cleaning day.”
“Whoa, all at the same time,” she jokes. “Now that’s what I call a party.”
I laugh now at her jokes and silliness, and I’m about to say something else when I hear Ari crying. “Speak of the devil,” I say.
“Give her a kiss for me, and I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, and I just sit here one second watching her.
“Good night, Candace.” I say her name softly.
“Good night, Ralph,” she replies. She disconnects this time, and I don’t know why I can’t move off the couch.
I hear Ari fussy now, and when I finally roll off the couch and walk into the dark room, I look over and see her kicking her feet. “What’s the matter with you?” Picking her up, I grab her pacifier and walk over to the chair. I sit down with her in my arms and rock her back and forth. I notice how much bigger she’s gotten and wonder how it would be if Cassie was here. I wonder if we would argue about how to be with her. Would I still spoil her? Probably. Would Cassie spend more time with Ari than me? Probably. Would I feel the same way I did for Cassie? Probably.
I rock Ari for longer than she needs to be rocked, and when I place her down in the bed, she stirs until I put the pacifier back in her mouth. She is up and down most of the night, and by the time the sun rises, there are bottles everywhere. She finally falls asleep somewhere around seven on my chest as I lie on the couch. The sound of the doorbell wakes us up, and I look over and see that it’s eleven. I hold her to my chest and get up, walking to the door. I look down, seeing that she is closing her eyes. I open the door and spot Candace there, the bright sunlight making me close one eye.