Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26008 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 130(@200wpm)___ 104(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
At that moment, a knock on the door sounds before it opens. A burly prison guard stands there, his red face pulled down in a frown.
“Your guests are here,” he says. “You’ve got two hours.”
Fuck, two hours only? Dang, visitation around here definitely isn’t generous. But I stand as my son prances into the little kitchen before throwing his arms around my neck. I swear, this boy should be a ballet dancer because he’s graceful and athletic at once, if a bit effeminate.
“Hi Dad!” he greets with cheery smile. “How are you holding up?”
“Good, good,” I growl, pulling back to survey him. Again, my son’s the spitting image of his mother with the same thick, chestnut hair; big, brown eyes; and a medium build. “Thanks for coming, Rol.”
“Sure, sure,” my son burbles. Then he turns and gestures to a figure lingering by the door. “Come on, Tess. Say hi to my dad.”
My mouth goes dry then because the woman standing at the threshold is utterly gorgeous. No iPad could do her justice because Tess is an utter vision. The curvy girl has long, brunette curls that wave about her face, and the most delicate, angelic features I’ve ever seen. Big brown eyes top a button nose, as well as a lush pink pout that just begs to be kissed. Even more, Tess is wearing clothes that flatter her curvy figure, and my pulse races taking in the short denim jean skirt paired with a pink halter top that shows off those big breasts.
“Hi Mr. Barker,” she murmurs with a quick smile. “It’s nice to meet you in the flesh, finally.”
I shake her hand, immediately swallowing that small palm within my paw.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I intone in my deep bass. “So, how did my son get you to marry him?”
Tess bites her lip and I sense that there’s an embarrassing story there, but Rolly jumps on it before she can say anything.
“Oh it’s easy!” he crows. “There are so many girls at Loyola, but Tess was the best of the bunch. I put a harness on her as soon as possible because you have to lock the good ones up straightaway before another man gets to them!”
Tess frown at the words “harness” and “lock,” as if her independent spirit is bristling, and immediately, I step in.
“Yeah, but we’re not talking ‘lock’ as in ‘locked-up in jail,’” I say quickly. “Rolly just means he wanted to lock you down before you were snapped up by someone else.”
My son looks confused.
“Yes, isn’t that what I said?”
I nod.
“You sure did, Son. You sure did.”
Tess takes a deep breath then, and smiles at me.
“Well, I’m happy to be here to meet you in person, Mr. Barker,” she murmurs. “Rolly and I are still adapting to married life, and it’s been a roller-coaster of a ride.”
I nod.
“Of course, and I wouldn’t expect any different because you went from being a lovely single lady to a married woman all in the blink of an eye. But tell me about it,” I invite while gesturing to the kitchen chairs. “What do you like about married life? In fact, tell me about yourself in general, Tess, because my son hasn’t said much,” I say, casting a meaningful look at my son.
At that moment, something catches Rolly’s eye outside the window and he frowns.
“Is that what I think it is?”
I look out the window. Unfortunately, they’ve built the family reunification cabins right next to each other, so we’re practically looking into the window of the cabin next door. But I don’t see anything, other than a closed white lace curtain.
“No, what?”
Rolly shakes his head and brightens, his gaze turning towards the front window now.
“I think I saw a squirrel,” he says. “You know the ones with all-black fur that are pretty rare.”
Tess turns towards him again.
“Rolly, they’re not that rare. Remember? We looked it up. They’re just Eastern grey squirrels which are melanistic, meaning that they’ve developed black coats. They’re just regular squirrels, and there’s nothing special about them except for the color.”
Rolly nods, his eyes still straining to catch another glimpse of the squirrel outside.
“I know, I know, but still, I always like seeing them and they’re pretty rare on the Loyola campus. Who knew we’d see one here up at Fishkill? Let me just see if I can get a photo for my Instagram feed,” he says, before getting up and rushing to the door. “I’ll just be a minute!” he calls before stepping outside. “You guys go ahead and talk.”
The door shuts then and Tess and I stare at each other for a moment because did my son really just do that? We only have two hours for this visit, but now my son’s outside chasing a squirrel in the hopes of posting a pic to his social media account?