Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Oh, right. I don’t know. Maybe two.” I keep my eyes fixed on the road.
“I’ve always wanted to be a dad,” he offers. “We didn’t have one growing up.”
“No?”
“No, he took off shortly after I was born,” Maddox says.
“You’re the youngest?”
“Yeah, by two years. We’re all close in age — Chase is the oldest, if you haven’t figured that out already — and I guess there were too many little kids for our father to handle. I was the one who pushed him to the breaking point.”
“Oh! I don’t think you should look at it that way.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds before saying, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“How many kids do you want?” I ask.
“Four seems like the perfect amount to me, actually,” he says. He’s smiling playfully, and I laugh, glad his future plans aren’t affected by his father’s abandonment. Or, maybe his plans are impacted by that; maybe he wants four kids just to prove that he can be a good dad to all of them.
From what I know of the Stanton brothers so far, I think all of them would make great dads. For the rest of our short drive, even as our conversation carries on, I can’t help imagining what it would be like to have babies with them. I can see Chase being stern but always fair, Dodge very caring and nurturing, and Diesel and Maddox would definitely be fun dads, always up for a joke or a game. My own father got the stern part down, but he was often lacking on those other qualities.
21
Contented
After using his nose to inspect every corner and crevice in the men’s house, Barnes is still a tail-wagging ball of energy.
The brothers have two beds ready for him, along with a crate, food dishes, and toys. They tell me about their plans to fence in a portion of their side yard so Barnes can run around outside, though of course, they’ll also take him for daily walks.
“Do you want to take him out now,” Chase asks the twins, “while Maddox and I start dinner?”
“Yeah,” Diesel says. “Jade, would you like to go with us? Are you up for a walk on the beach?”
“Sure.”
“Do you have a coat?” Dodge asks.
I shake my head. “It was warmer when I went into the shelter earlier. I should have checked the forecast.”
“No problem. We’ve got you,” Diesel says. He goes into the mud room and returns with a thick flannel shirt, the kind that’s worn as a jacket. He drapes it over my shoulders, and I know instantly that it’s either his or Dodge’s, because the fabric is infused with their wonderful scent.
Dodge clips a leash to Barnes’s collar, and we exit onto the back deck. From there, a stairway leads down to a wooden walkway that extends over the dunes. The dog’s nose sniffs double time as soon as we’re outdoors.
“I saw a fox out here two mornings ago,” Diesel says. “I wonder if he can still smell it.”
“Dog’s noses are incredible,” I say. As if he understands me, Barnes drops his snout to the ground the minute we hit the sand, and sniffs trails in every direction he can reach.
“They are,” Dodge says, “but I’m not sure I’d want to be able to smell things as well as he can. I’ll bet the beach would seem stinky to us if we experienced it through a dog’s nose.”
“A pile of seaweed would probably knock us over,” I agree.
We head down to the water, and when we reach the firmer, damp sand, we start walking toward the setting sun.
It’s a beautiful evening, and there probably isn’t a better spot on the island to enjoy the beauty of the sunset. And there probably aren’t better people to spend the evening with.
“Do Chase and Maddox do all of the cooking?” I ask.
“Most of it,” Diesel says.
“Our mom taught us all to cook, but her lessons didn’t stick as well with the two of us,” Dodge explains. “We either undercook things or we burn them.”
“Oh, that’s not good.”
“How about you?” Dodge asks. “Do you like to cook?”
“This might sound strange, but I don’t know if I do or not,” I say. “I mostly eat quick, simple things that don’t need much preparation.”
There’s more behind my answer that I don’t feel comfortable sharing. I think I might enjoy cooking, but my mom didn’t teach me how to make much of anything because she always had me on a diet. I’m great at boiling eggs, putting salads together, and making yogurt parfaits, but I’m intimidated by anything more complicated than that. When I think about watching videos and trying new recipes, I always end up talking myself out of it and making a turkey sandwich instead. When I lived with my ex for a short while, I mostly made canned soups and other meals that didn’t need much actual preparation.