Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“His appointment is next week, and no, I’ve had enough. I’ll be leaving shortly. You want me to leave Coop here for the girls tonight?” I take my hat off my head, tossing it on the table to run my fingers through my hair.
“Nah, but if you aren’t working early Monday morning, would you mind if I dropped the girls off with you for a few hours? I’ve got an appointment with an attorney, not that I’m giving Krissy what she wants yet. I need to go over options to make sure everything is written in black and white to go from there. I’d ask Mom, but you know the questions that will come with that. Even if they can see the load of bullshit I’m slinging, I’d rather not discuss it until I know more.” Our mom means well, so I get that. She’d ask a million questions, worry herself until she’s pacing the floors well past midnight, and nothing Dad says could help it either.
“Of course. I have their car seats in the SUV. Cammy has school, but does Piper?” I ask. My oldest niece is in kindergarten now. How that happened, I’m not sure. It seems like yesterday I got the call to meet Forest at the hospital, Krissy was in labor, and Cammy was being born. Three years later, it was a repeat performance.
“Piper only goes on Tuesdays and Thursdays now. I’m going to see about her going daily, though. I want them both on a schedule. Maybe it’ll help with stability.” I gotta say, my brother may be three years younger than my thirty-six years, but he’s got his shit figured out.
“Alright, then bring them over when they wake up. We’ll make breakfast, drop Cammy off, and then I’ll take Piper and Cooper to the park, let them both run off some energy.” More for my sake than an almost three-year-old and a certain Labrador.
“Thanks, Mad. Let me walk you out while Krissy is asleep. That way, you aren’t subjected to her shit once again.” Jesus, the only reason I didn’t dip out when they were arguing earlier is because both girls were by the pool. Forest tipped his head in my direction, and I got the memo. The good news is, the girls had no idea what they were arguing about. The bad news is, this is becoming normal to them.
“Not a problem. Things get rocky, just call. My place is always open.” Fucking house is bigger than necessary. It came on a prime piece of land, and the massive home came with it. The land, the peace and quiet, is what I was after. It helped that it sat on four acres, with neighbors far enough away that they aren’t watching as you’re coming and going.
“I’ll meet you at the Bronco with Cooper. Take the gate,” Forest suggests. That’s when I know it’s way worse than he ever let on.
“Shit, you and I are going to talk real soon, baby brother,” I tell him. I stand up, grab my hat off the table, and head to where I left my shoes earlier today knowing wearing them home wouldn’t happen with the amount of splashing that went on around the pool once the girls were done eating before and after dinner.
“Soon. Not now, though,” are his parting words before he disappears inside. I walk out the side gate with all of my stuff—shoes, shirt, Coop’s leash, and keys in my hand. Forest is going to have a night on his hands once he makes his way back inside. I look at my lovingly restored black 1973 Classic Bronco, sleek black, canvas top. It’ll no doubt wake Krissy up or clue her in to the fact, if she’s not asleep, that I left. The exhaust alone will do the trick, not counting the barking Cooper does when he sees we’re going for a ride. Fuck, my brother is going to have his hands full for a long time to come.
FIVE
Hendrix
The weekend flew by, probably because I stayed busy when Jolene and I weren’t on a hiking trail, that one further than our usual in order to stay far far away from Madden and Cooper. Then there was an estate sale I couldn’t pass up, where I picked up a vintage sewing box. It needs some paint stripper and a good sanding, but I figure it’ll be a nice and easy project to tackle. The bonus was it came on a stand, so I’m going to double it as an end table in my living room. That led to even more thrifting and shopping. Not that I spent a lot; after all, I am working towards a goal to squirrel away a nest egg not only for retirement but also for a home. One where I can paint the walls, hang my tapestries, wall art that I had made years ago but can’t hang up at my place. It has every single music artist I know and love, each name carefully handwritten. I’m a lover of all genres from the 1950s until today. Not so much a today’s hits kind girl unless they have that deep throaty voice that has a woman dying to hear in the throes of a passionate night.