Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89986 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“I should do that with my room.”
I chuckled as the waitress came and set menus in front of us.
“Welcome to Bella Dare’s. My name is Katie and I’ll be your waitress. Can I start you two off with something to drink?” she asked.
“I’ll have tea,” I said. “Unsweet.”
“Do you have milk?”
“Chocolate and regular,” the waitress said.
Brody glanced at me, and I threw him a wink before a smile grew on his face.
“Chocolate, please.”
“Excellent choice,” she said. “Do we know what we want?”
“Spaghetti!” Brody exclaimed.
I laughed as I handed the menu straight back to the waitress.
“Two plates of spaghetti, please. And he’ll want ice cream for dessert.”
“Any dessert for you?” she asked.
“Maybe I’ll steal a bite of his.”
“Mom does that all the time. You guys have that in common.”
My eyes fell to my son as the waitress collected our menus. She left to get our drinks, and Brody eased himself back into his chair. The excited boy I had just seen retreated into the shell he most certainly got from Ana. While I saw why people thought he looked a lot like me, there was a lot of her in him as well. The wariness behind his eyes. The deep furrow of his brow. The length of his neck. All of it screamed Ana, and it made me wish she was here with us.
Then it hit me.
She must have felt just like this after looking into his face for years.
“So, your Mom tells me you play sports,” I said.
“Uh huh. Football and soccer.”
“What positions do you play?”
“I’m a goalie sometimes.”
“What about in football?” I asked.
“I hit a lot of guys. You know, to protect the one with the ball.”
“That’s called a running back.”
“Mom says you play, too.”
“I did, back when I was younger.”
“What did you play?”
“I was a forward in soccer and the quarterback of my football team.”
“You played quarterback!?”
“I did,” I said, chuckling.
“That’s awesome. My daddy was a quarterback.”
My heart seized at that comment. Daddy. His daddy. It sounded so wonderful coming from my son.
“Do you like school?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah, especially history.”
“Really? I was terrible at history. You know who was good at history, though?”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
“Really?”
“Yep. She tutored me through it in high school,” I said.
“That’s weird. She’s not very good with dates.”
“What do you mean?”
“She always forgets what day it is. Like, she’ll wake up and think that it’s Friday when really it’s only Tuesday.”
I laughed and shook my head as Brody shot a quizzical look my way.
“We all do that sometimes. It’ll happen to you one day, too,” I said.
“But yeah, I really love history.”
“What part about it do you like so far?” I asked.
“Well, we were talking about the presidents that did all the things with the outside.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, the parks. They passed laws for the parks so no one could mess them up. I like that. I want to go see them someday.”
“Ah, the national parks.”
“Yeah! That’s the name.”
“You know, some national parks let you camp in them. Maybe we could go camping sometime,” I said.
“That would be so cool. I’ve never been camping.”
“Doesn’t shock me. I don’t think your mom would like it.”
“We camp in the backyard.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah. She got us a little tent, and she’ll put it up and we have sleeping bags and a DVD player that runs off batteries. She makes us snacks and everything.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun.”
“You wanna camp with us next time?”
“I’d really like that,” I said.
When I asked him about his favorite parks, he described all the animals and flowers he had learned about in history class, apparently. It seemed he enjoyed learning about the parks more for the outside content than he did the actual history, which only made me more excited. I loved the outdoors. Hiking, camping, swimming in lakes and playing in streams, fishing.
I could take my son fishing.
It was amazing how well-spoken and well-mannered Brody was. When the waitress brought our drinks, he thanked her. When he was done eating his spaghetti, he asked her if she was hungry and wanted some. He even offered more of his ice cream than was necessary so I could have another bite.
He was kind, and generous. He had such a big heart and a smile to match.
Just like his mother.
Ana had done a really good job of raising him so far. Then again, I’d never had any doubt about that. But guilt settled deep in my stomach. I hadn’t been there for my son, for her, for her pregnancy.
As Brody ate his ice cream, I wondered what it had been like for her to endure that alone, o grow and change and have a child, all at eighteen years old. To find out she was pregnant before she had even graduated.
Had I done something to push her away before all that had happened? Had I done something to make her think I would have left had I known she was pregnant?