Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
An hour later, I’m home, showered, and standing in the kitchen with an ice-cold beer, staring at the stack of takeout menus, trying to decide what to order for dinner. When my cell phone rings, I check the caller before answering. Thankfully, it’s not work. It’s my best friend, Brad.
“Hey, man,” I greet him.
“You sound defeated. Rough day?”
I huff out a laugh. “Rough week. What are you up to?”
“Marisa and Abe are at her mom's, working on his costume for the Christmas pageant for school.”
“Damn, preschool is brutal,” I mumble.
“Nah, Abe’s pumped about it. He gets to be a gumdrop.”
“Don’t they all have to look the same?” I wonder, thinking about a bunch of little four- and five-year-olds running around as gumdrops. Abe’s a cute kid, and it brings a small smile to my face.
“They do. Marisa volunteered to make all the gumdrops, with her mom’s help, of course, and Abe wanted to be there to help too.”
“So, you’re home alone?”
“Nah, I’ve got Carrie,” he says of his little girl, who turned one over the summer.
“Well, have the two of you had dinner? I was just getting ready to order something.”
“That’s why I’m calling. I was going to see if you wanted to come over and watch last night’s game. I didn’t get to watch it. My boys had practice,” he says of his varsity basketball team he coaches.
“Wait, don’t you usually have games on Friday nights?”
“Yeah, but we have a bye this week.”
“Well, I’d love to, but I’ve already had half of this beer.” I could drive on a half, but I don’t drink and drive ever. It’s my own personal rule, no matter that the law says, legally, I’d be fine. “You’re welcome to come over. I haven’t ordered yet.”
“Pizza,” he says in answer. “Meat lovers. We’ll be there in twenty.”
“What about Carrie?”
“She can eat some of mine. You got scissors, right? Marisa cuts up her food with scissors, and it’s so much easier. My wife is a genius.”
I laugh. Brad is one of the lucky ones. He found a woman who loves him and only him. He has two kids, the wife, and even though he doesn’t have a white picket fence around his place, he should. They’re that picture perfect.
“I’m on it.”
“See you soon.”
The call ends, and I sift through the takeout menus until I find the one for Pizza Town and place the order. I add on an order of breadsticks, thinking maybe that might work better for Carrie.
I eye my house, and it’s tidy enough. That’s not hard to do when you live on your own. I finish off my beer, but instead of grabbing another, I pull out a bottle of water from the fridge and settle on the couch, waiting for my company and my dinner to arrive.
“Um, um, um,” Carrie says after each bite of her breadstick that she’s messily dipping into pizza sauce.
“Is that good?” I ask her.
“Um!” she cheers, which has Brad and me both laughing.
“You’re good with kids. You need a couple,” Brad tells me.
“Correction. I’m good with your kids, and you know that ship has long since set sail, my friend.”
“Come on, Oliver, you can’t let her take your life from you.”
“She didn’t. I’m in a career that I love. I have a best friend who has two adorable kids I can play with and spoil and then send home. I’m living the dream,” I tell him, popping the final bite of my slice of pizza into my mouth.
“Marisa has some single friends.”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “Not going there, man.”
“You know my wife is tenacious, right?” He grins.
“Yeah, but she’s not my wife, so I can freeze her out until she gives up.”
He groans. “You know I’ll get her whining from that.”
I shrug. “Then tell her to let it be. My life is good, Brad. I’m not unhappy.”
“Riiiight,” he says with a laugh, dragging out the word. “You’re grumpy as f—fudge and you know it. You have this anger inside you that you can’t let go of. It’s only going to get worse.”
“Carrie, tell your daddy he’s wrong,” I say to the adorable little girl. She grins and smacks her hands on the tray of the portable high chair her dad brought with them.
“Just because I’m not interested in dating, or happily ever after, doesn’t mean I’m grumpy. Do I like things a certain way? Yes, I do. There is nothing wrong with that. Lives are literally in my hands every day.”
“I mean, you’re an orthopedic physician, not a brain surgeon,” he jokes. “Man, I just know what you’re missing out on, and I hate that for you. I want you to have this.” He nods toward his daughter.
I understand what he’s saying, and there was a time in my life, a very specific time, just as I was mere months from wrapping up my residency, when his life was exactly what I saw for myself. Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want, and the heartache that comes with the chance just isn’t worth it to me.