Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Loretta laughs and pats his back. “You know the rules, honey. Maybe if you’re good this week, you can next Saturday.”
Owen rips open one of the velvet boxes and pops a piece of chocolate in his mouth. He talks and chews. “I’ll be good!” he declares.
“Manners, Owen. Don’t speak with food in your mouth,” I remind him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, covering his mouth. “Want one?” He holds the box out toward Loretta and Elliot, but they shake their heads.
“I’ve had so much sugar this weekend I’m surprised I’m not a candy heart right now,” Loretta laughs as she tells Owen.
“Candy hearts are nasty, Mimi.”
“They’re my favorite,” she gushes.
“They are gross,” Elliot agrees with Owen, then looks at Loretta with a devilish grin.
“More for me then!” she exclaims, taking a sip of her tea.
After Owen puts batteries in his remote-control car and drives it all over the house, Elliot and Loretta say their goodbyes.
“He really can come stay next weekend if you’d like to get some uninterrupted work done on the house,” Elliot tells me as we walk them to the door.
“I know. I really appreciate it. I’m sure he’d love that too!”
Owen runs up and gives them another hug. “Love you!”
“Love you too,” they say. “Be good for your mom. Don’t eat too much chocolate, even if it is Valentine’s Day.” Loretta flashes him a wink, then turns toward me.
“You know…” She lowers her voice. “It’s been years since you’ve had a serious relationship, Katie. You should get back out there and date again.”
All I can do is laugh. “With all my spare time?” I tease. “They say you find love when you’re not looking for it. And well, I ain’t lookin’.” I shrug
She gives me a smile. “You’re right, but it’d be okay if you did,” she says genuinely. “Bye, Owen! Mimi and Pawpaw love you!” Loretta blows a kiss as they walk to their car.
Owen nods with a big cheeky grin. “See you this week!”
“Thank you again,” I tell them as we wave. Once they’re out of sight, I shut the front door. Owen’s already bouncing around the house, but I can’t even be mad about it.
“Want some, Mom?” He holds up one of the chocolates.
I snag a piece and pop it in my mouth, then immediately scrunch up my nose. “Eww!” I hurry and swallow it. “What flavor was that?”
Owen thinks it’s the funniest thing as I try to wash down the disgusting taste. He grabs the key and tries to match it with the one I had.
“It was coconut raspberry,” he explains, then finds another one in the batch and eats it. “Mmm, it’s good, Mom!”
I laugh at how he’s struggling to eat it just like I had. “Mm-hmm. I can tell by the look on your face.”
He quickly realizes how gross it is and runs to the kitchen. I hear him being dramatic as he spits it in the trash. Owen returns and pretends to scrape his tongue. “You’re right. That was disgusting!”
“I always loved these chocolates and never looked to see what kind they were. I wanted to be surprised. However, I’d learned to take a small bite before eating the whole thing because I didn’t want to commit to the ones I ended up not liking. Your grandma would find half-eaten chocolate every year.”
Owen snickers. “You’re funny.”
“You are,” I say, reaching over and poking his side. Immediately, he flinches, and I wiggle my fingers in a tickling motion.
“Noooooo,” he screeches, moving away from me. I motion with my eyes to clean up his mess, and he reluctantly does.
“Thank you,” I say, grabbing the empty glasses to take to the kitchen. After a while, I tell Owen to take a bath as I cook dinner.
When he’s out of the tub, I make our plates, and we sit at the table. “All your homework is done, right?” I ask, just as I do every Sunday night. Instead of checking for myself, I give him the responsibility to make sure it is. I’ve tried to teach him that his grades are his and not mine, so he has no one to blame but himself if he does poorly. Of course, I’ll always help if he asks for it, but for the most part, he’s good about finishing his assignments and turning them in on time.
“Yes, ma’am,” he tells me with a grin before taking a huge bite of his cheeseburger. As we eat, he tells me about his latest school project. Then asks how long until summer because he wants to go to Disney World like a few of his friends have gotten to.
“We’d have to plan that months in advance, sweetie. Maybe next year,” I say, though a trip like that would cost me most of what’s left in my savings. I’ve always wanted to surprise him, but right now, all my extra money is going into the new house.