Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 105398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
I glanced at him questioningly. “What do you mean, what am I doing?”
“That’s what I mean, what are you doing?” Max said annoyingly.
Max hated it when I asked what do you mean. He knew I knew what he meant, yet I asked him anyway. I loved annoying my brother.
I was sitting in the chair in the living room. Max, Cheyenne, Sam, and Gabe just walked inside. I had one of those shake weights I’d ordered off TV in my hands, and I was shaking it with all I had. I could feel my arms burning, and I was seriously about to pass out from the pain.
“She’s working out her muscles. Gotta keep conditioned for later.” Gabe said slyly.
“Does that thing work? All it looks like you are doing is jacking off the weight.” Cheyenne said.
What could I say? I knew it looked bad, but the thing worked. It was going to keep my arms in shape so my tattoo that I planned to get in a few weeks looked good, instead of stretched out and flappy.
The alarm on my phone dinged, and I dropped my arms down to the arm of my chair. “Sure as heck does. Here, you try.”
Cheyenne took the weight from my hands, placed both of hers fist to fist, and started shaking for all she was worth. I corrected her position, and couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.
“Oh, God. That looks awful! I should record this and put it on Facebook.”
Luca started crying from the bedroom, and I got up to get him before he woke Cora. I’d gotten them down to a great schedule, and they both slept at the same times throughout the day.
Luca was gurgling and playing with his feet. Hoochie was on his tummy in the very corner, guarding Luca as if he did every night since we brought Luca home from the hospital. It never failed, anywhere that Luca was, Hoochie was soon to follow.
I lifted him from the crib and gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Hey there, big boy. You didn’t sleep very long.”
Luca was now twenty pounds of chunky cuteness. He had Gabe’s eyes, and the black curls that looked so much like his sister’s beautiful hair. Today he was wearing a shirt that said, “My dad can kick your dad’s ass.” Which was very true.
Max was a big believer in the onesies. Every time he found one he liked, he would buy it for Luca to wear. He had a whole closet full, and it probably wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.
Changing him quickly, I made my way back into the living room. Max took Luca from me as I passed him. Laughing, I relinquished him to his uncle, and went to sit next to Gabe. He curled me close, and I buried my nose into his neck, kissing his collarbone where Luca’s name permanently marked his skin.
The day after we were released from the hospital, Gabe disappeared for a little over six hours. All he told me was that he had an appointment, and he would be back as soon as he could.
I didn’t question him, assuming it had something to do with work, and left him to it. I had help anyway, and planned to catch up on some much-needed sleep while I could. It was a little past six in the evening when he came back.
I was in the living room feeding the baby with all the girls crowded around on multiple pieces of furniture when his bike pulled up outside. When he walked in the door, I noticed the gauze over his neck instantaneously, and started flipping out before I saw the twinkle in his eyes. He walked right up to me and whipped his shirt over his head, revealing another large piece of gauze on the inside of his left bicep, and an additional on the inside of his right bicep.
The girls and I watched in awe as he pulled off each piece of gauze. The one on his right arm revealed the words “My Ember” twined around the bulge of his bicep. On the other arm, a star adorned the majority of his underarm. The star was jagged and torn, and underneath you could make out the majority of Cora’s name. It almost looked like she was buried deep, and the skin had been cut away to reveal it her.
The last tattoo hit me the hardest, because on the left collarbone, the same one that Luca had broken was Luca’s name. It was simple lettering, and profoundly beautiful.
I wrapped my arms around Gabe carefully, and whispered into his ear. “I swear to God, we are never going to make it six weeks. I’d totally jump you right now if I could.”
He’d let out a deep belly laugh, and vowed that I would get a tattoo. That’s when I started working on my arm flab; I wanted the exact same thing on my arms that he had on his, as well as the same tattoo on my left collarbone. I just hoped I wouldn’t cry throughout the entire thing.
“Jesus. Do you think you got enough pictures?” Max asked while bouncing Luca on his knee and glancing at the coffee table where I had some frames sitting.
“No. Never.” I said to him.
Gabe wrapped me tighter, and I glanced around the room.
Our whole living room wall was covered in 8X10 pictures. Six days after Luca was born, we had newborn pictures made. They were stunning. My favorite was of Luca swaddled in an American flag. In his hands, he clutched Gabe’s dog tags. Cora was on her knees beside him kissing his head. It was a priceless photograph, because the rest of the shots were either blurry of Cora, who had turned into the Tazmanian Devil when it came to staying still, or Luca was crying.
When I wasn’t getting professional pictures taken of the kids and ourselves, I was behind the camera, just as my mom used to be. Everywhere I went now, I had my trusty Canon Rebel in my hands. I recently took a picture of the Gabe bent over a bike, wrench in his hand while the other supported his body on the seat of the bike. A red rag hung out of his back pocket, and another was slung over his muscular shoulders. Did I mention he was shirtless and sweaty at the time?