Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Nobody gives a fuck,” I countered, grabbing my coveralls.
“How’d the honeymoon go?” he asked, walking over. “Find out she’s got a tail or anything?”
“Think I woulda noticed a tail the first time around,” I muttered. He was such an ass.
“Come on, baby brother,” he joked, leaning against the car in my bay. “Speak. Was it everything you hoped for? Shit workin’ out?”
“It’s good.” I shrugged.
“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That married sex is fuckin’ incredible, that havin’ a wife is the best thing ever, that Esther cooks like a fuckin’ Michelin chef, I don’t know, man, somethin’.”
“Not talkin’ to you about our sex life,” I replied, lifting one finger. “I’ve been married for a week, if you want to talk about married life go ask literally anyone else.” I lifted a second finger and then a third. “And we’ve been gettin’ takeout.”
Rumi laughed. “You’re a fuckin’ joy to be around, you know that?”
“Don’t you have someone else to bother?”
“No one else that just got married,” he replied, pushing my shoulder. “Come on, how’s it been?”
I sighed. He wasn’t going to let up until I gave him something. Rumi was worse than the women when it came to gossiping.
“The sex is fantastic, which wasn’t surprising because it was good the first time.”
Rumi whooped, and I shook my head. He was such a fucking child.
“I like Esther,” he said, pointing at me. “She seems super fuckin’ nice and she doesn’t take your shit.”
“What shit?”
“This whole pissed-in-my-cereal attitude you’ve had since you were five. She doesn’t even seem to notice it.”
“I don’t have an attitude.”
“Boy, you’ve had an attitude since the womb,” my dad countered as he rounded the car. “How’s things?”
“All good.”
“We’ve been watchin’ the Sons of Calgary all week, and no one’s fuckin’ movin’,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Goin’ around actin’ like they don’t have thousands of dollars in stolen weapons stashed somewhere.”
“It’s been a real bore,” Rumi added, scratching absently at the side of his face.
“Esther hasn’t had any problems? Not tryin’ to call home or anythin’?”
“How would she?” I asked. “She’s been at the house this week. No phone, remember?”
“You still haven’t gotten her a phone?” Rumi asked in disbelief, standing up straight.
“What?” I looked at him and then my dad. “We didn’t even leave the house.”
“You’re here.” Dad was frowning.
“And?”
“You left her at your house in the boonies with no phone,” Rumi muttered.
“She’s fine. She’s at my place,” I shot back defensively.
“Son, she needs a phone.”
“I’ll get her one.”
“Today,” my dad ordered. “For fuck’s sake, she’s pregnant.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that.” I’d explored the little curve of her belly more times than I could count in the last week.
“What the fuck’s she supposed to do in an emergency?” Rumi asked. His look of disbelief had morphed into a glare that made me even more defensive.
“She’s fine.”
“At least this cabin has electricity and runnin’ water,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I’ll give you that.”
“Say what?” I barked, taking a step forward.
“She a fuckin’ prisoner or your wife?”
“Jesus Christ,” my dad muttered, shoving me back a step. “The two of you are on my last goddamn nerve. Knock it off.”
“I’m gonna get her a phone.”
“Right,” Rumi spit.
“We weren’t exactly thinkin’ about phones!”
My dad’s lips twitched. “Did you even leave the bed?” he asked knowingly.
“Yes.”
He laughed. “Get her a phone today, yeah? She needs one in case there’s an emergency or you know, if your mom wants to call her.”
“Why would Mom need to call her?” I asked suspiciously.
“You’re a fuckin’ idiot,” Rumi muttered, walking away.
I flipped him off.
“They can’t maintain this nothin’-to-see-here game forever,” my dad said, leaning his ass against the car where Rumi had been. “But I have a feelin’ that when shit starts happenin’ it’s goin’ to be a surprise, and it’s gonna get ugly. You need a way to get ahold of your wife when that happens.”
“She’s not a fuckin’ prisoner,” I mumbled, feeling like an asshole. We really hadn’t thought about getting her a new phone. She didn’t have anyone to call, and it wasn’t as if I’d spent the week with mine out. I’d put it on the kitchen counter when we got home from the wedding and I hadn’t picked it up again until I’d left for work that morning.
“I know shit is up in the air right now,” Dad said quietly. “But eventually you two are gonna have to start buildin’ a life, yeah? She needs a phone. She’s gonna need a car. You’re gonna need to start gettin’ ready for that baby.”
“It’s been a week.”
“Pretty sure your mom already set up an appointment for her to see the doctor,” Dad said. “And she’s got no way to get ahold of Esther to make that happen.”
“She can let me know—” I stopped talking when I saw the look on his face. “Yeah, I get it. I’ll take care of the phone tonight.”