Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Positive,” I said into the yawning silence.
“Then I have nothing more keeping me here,” Pearl said.
Then with a flourish that only a Pope could make, she swept out of the room and out the door without another word.
It wasn’t until the door stopped vibrating that Mavis said, “What do you mean you took care of it?”
She walked around my chair and stared at me.
“I took care of it.” I paused. “Well, technically, my mom took care of it for me since I was a bit of an invalid that last couple of weeks before my surgery. But I had Mom talk to a lawyer. We went through our attorneys. I didn’t want this to be something you had to worry about after I was gone.” I licked my lips. “I am, legally, Vlad’s father. On the birth certificate, it says he’s mine. Bayne can’t say anything, because I tied him up legally. He won’t be able to ever say a word unless he wants to break a very ironclad contract. Oh, and shell out millions of dollars in fines and fees.”
The sight of her eyes filling with tears had me reaching out for her.
She came, sitting down on one of my legs and leaning in so she didn’t crush Vlad.
Pressing her lips to mine, she said, “So you’re officially both of ours, now?”
“You were always officially mine. You just didn’t know it.”
EPILOGUE
Bad puns. It’s how eye roll.
-Murphy to Mavis
MURPHY
“Dad!”
The absolute panic in my son’s voice had me whipping my head around and staring at Vlad as he all but poured through the kitchen door.
He looked panicked and stricken, as if something terrible had happened in between him leaving an hour ago and now.
I also noticed he was missing one very annoying girlfriend.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my heart picking up speed at the panic in his voice.
Had he wrecked his car…
“Kyra and I broke up, and she wouldn’t give my sweatshirt back!” he cried out.
That damn sweatshirt.
“Umm,” I hesitated. “What happened? Weren’t y’all just together like five minutes ago?”
He shrugged. “She wanted to go eat at Taco Casa, and I don’t like Taco Casa. She persisted, so I told her she could go by herself, and I’d drop her off and go eat at Whataburger. But then she said maybe I should just drop her off at home. So, I did. But as she was getting out of the car, she told me that she didn’t want to date me anymore because I didn’t understand her. Then when I asked for my sweatshirt back, she told me she wouldn’t give it to me because I was always really mean and dishonest with her. I don’t know what that was about but…anyway, long story short, I didn’t get the sweatshirt back!”
“What’s the big deal?” our middle child, Andrew, asked. “Just buy a new one. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal,” Vlad argued, “because that was my lucky one! I need it back!”
His ‘lucky’ sweatshirt wasn’t lucky.
However, at fifteen, Vlad was a lover of baseball. He was pretty damn good at it, too.
But being good at it also meant that he was superstitious. Superstitious as fuck.
That came with him not washing his pants, his underwear, or his stupid sweatshirt until they lost.
His sweatshirt likely smelled rank. I wasn’t sure why that girl would want to keep it.
“I’ll help you steal it back,” our youngest, Louella, better known as Lou, said. “I can break into her house and steal it. Because there’s no way in hell she’s giving that back.”
“She’ll give it back.” Vlad sounded so sure that I hated to disappoint him. “No need to do anything hasty like breaking and entering.”
Vlad was also the golden boy. He did no wrong.
Seriously, he was a good kid. Always home before curfew, never doing anything bad ever, and he didn’t even speed. Seriously, where was that in my other two hellions?
“We’re not breaking into any houses,” I disagreed. “But, let me show you something, son.”
I walked Vlad into the bedroom where I could hear Mavis knocking around, moving stuff around.
Every few years, she’d get a bee up her bonnet and she’d need to remodel our room. Bed, sheets, sometimes furniture, paint color and even wall décor.
This time, it seemed, it all was coming down.
I wondered who she’d donate it to this time.
Or who I would have to donate it to seeing as she rarely ever did anything with it once she got it out to the garage.
“What am I looking at?” Vlad whispered. “Other than my crazy mother who thinks it’s normal to decide to paint a room at seven in the evening on a Friday night when we’re supposed to be somewhere?”
My lips twitched at his words. “Look at what she’s wearing.”
The particular shirt she was wearing was mine.
From fucking childhood.
I hadn’t even realized the damn thing had gone missing until a few weeks after I’d moved in with her.