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)
But the thing was, at the time, that shirt had been one of my absolute favorites. I had exactly four shirts to my name at that time, and the damn woman had stolen my most favorite.
I’d thought I’d lost it in the move.
She’d told me, about a year after our marriage, that she’d taken it because she hadn’t wanted to let me go.
She’d hoped that by taking it, I’d have to come back and see her.
Funny thing was, had I known she had it, I just well might have.
“A Paris ISD Football Athletic shirt.” Vlad paused. “And?”
“And, that was my shirt when I lived with my mother on your mother’s grandmother’s property. I hadn’t even realized that she had it.” I paused. “Not until a decade later.”
Vlad swallowed hard, likely realizing his mistake.
He was never getting that sweatshirt back.
Finally realizing she had an audience, Mavis blinked and stared at us all crammed in the doorway.
“What’s the problem?” Mavis asked, looking over her shoulder at all of us staring at her.
“Kyra and I broke up today,” Vlad admitted sheepishly.
Mavis stopped what she was doing for a moment to look at him in triumph. “I told you she was going to do it.”
“You told me, but I didn’t want to believe you,” Vlad shot back.
I crossed my arms and leaned my shoulder against the door frame.
“Did you get your sweatshirt back before she did it like I suggested?” Mavis went back to pressing the blue tape along the white trim of our baseboards.
“No,” Vlad winced. “I didn’t think…”
“You thought she’d be nice and give it to you.” Mavis snorted. “Yeah right.”
Vlad grumbled underneath his breath as Lou said, “Mom, I think you should help me break into her house and get it back.”
I dropped my hand onto Lou’s head. “There will be no breaking and entering.”
Lou looked bummed that I would put that stipulation on her.
“Just tell her the next time you see her that you want her to have it, because it’ll always remind her of you.” Mavis paused as she tried to reach a particular painting on the wall and couldn’t quite lift it high enough to get it off the anchor it was resting on. “Tell her that you want her next boyfriend to know that she still prefers being surrounded by you. That’ll get her to give it back.”
I moved and pulled the painting off the wall, pressing her against the wall to do it.
“Ewwww,” Vlad groaned. “Gross.”
I ignored the way my kids cringed when I got close to Mavis and placed the painting on the floor before squeezing her hips to get her to stay.
“Y’all ready to go workout?” I asked curiously over my shoulder. “Friday Night Lights is about to start.”
Friday Night Lights was when the entire gym got together to do the first open workout that the CrossFit Games put out each year. Our gym would bring a pot-luck style dish that would sit there while we all worked out. Then, when we were done, we’d eat and drink beer and be ultimately happy people as we complained about how bad the workout was.
“I’m ready,” Mavis said as she dusted off her hands. “We can do the rest tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes at the word ‘we.’
I would help her with the big stuff, but mostly, she’d want me out of the way while she did her thing.
Not that I was complaining. Painting wasn’t my favorite thing in the world.
I’d much rather have my head under an old car, restoring it to its prime, than painting any day.
But if she’d wanted me there, I would be there, grumbling and all.
She stopped in front of me and smiled up at me, and I couldn’t stop myself from dropping a kiss to her upturned mouth.
“Love you,” she said.
I pulled her in with a hand on her butt. “Love you, too.”
“Gross.” Vlad disappeared into the hallway. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”
He was ready in ten, in typical teenager fashion.
I used that time to my advantage and made out with his mother until he was.
Best ten minutes ever.
• • •
MAVIS
“Y’all are so in love it makes me sick.” Fran came up to my side, standing there as we watched our husbands work out.
I rolled my eyes as I said, “And you’re not?”
Fran patted her growing belly. “I mean, obviously.”
Snorting, I rolled the forty-five-pound weights toward my man who was slowly adding weight to a bar to max out his weight on deadlifts.
In the years that had passed since Murphy’s heart transplant, he’d gotten all of his strength back and then some.
Ultimately, he was a very fit individual, and we always made sure to eat healthy and stay physically active to ensure that it continued to stay that way, and we wouldn’t wind up in the same predicament as last time.