Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I also couldn’t breathe.
I’d never been happier.
“Excuse me, son?” my dad asked after Preppy finally let us go. Well, let my dad go. I was still plastered to his side. His arm around my waist, his fingers dancing on my hip.
Still.
Never happier.
“I thought that’s how this whole thing works? First the men negotiate. That’s how they do it in the movies. Although we are doing it a little backwards so I can understand the confusion,” Preppy deadpanned.
“What the fuck kind of movies are you watching?” I asked, not even caring that I just swore in front of my father who was staring at Preppy as if he just sprouted another head from his neck. I couldn’t NOT smile up at him and his craziness. “Furlongs? Goats?”
Preppy shrugged, “I don’t know, Doc, the kind where farm animals and land are exchanged before shit like this goes down. Maybe it was the Princess Bride...” he wondered, looking off to the bay for a beat before focusing his smile back on my dad whose eyebrows were drawn in so tight they made a V down the middle of his forehead so sharp I thought it might slice his face in two.
“Wait, how what shit works?” my dad asked, using a rare swear word of his own. “What are we talking about here?”
Preppy released me temporarily to step over to the mismatched coolers on the grass against the back porch. He tossed a beer to my dad who caught it and immediately popped the top. Preppy pulled out two more, opening both of them before handing one to me. “Well, I suppose I could settle for one less furlong of land. I tell you what, sir, as soon as I figure out how much a furlong of land is, I’ll get back to you with my new terms. Sound good?” Preppy asked, taking a sip of his beer.
My father sighed, and I tried my hardest not to laugh knowing full well what it’s like to meet Preppy for the first time. “Son, you either need to tell me what you’re talking about or up your medication, because I’m an old man and you’ve got me spinning in circles over here and I’ve only had a sip of beer.” He looked at me. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” I shook my head because honestly I had no idea, but I knew there was a point, there was always a point.
Well, sometimes there was a point.
My dad took another swig of his beer and I did the same, the cool bubbles tickling my tongue and throat. Of course it just so happens that Preppy waited until my father and myself had a mouthful of beer to explain himself, which resulted in the two of us spraying beer out of our mouths and noses.
On ourselves.
On each other. And to the delight of others, on everyone within a three feet radius.
“Doc’s dowry of course,” Preppy explained like we should have already known. “You know, for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“Am I cattle?” I asked.
“I don’t know? Do you want to be?” Preppy asked, waggling his eyebrows.
“I don’t even know what that means!” I laughed, swatting him on the shoulder.
“Ahem,” my dad said, shaking his empty beer bottle. “I think I’m going to need another one of these before this conversation goes any further.”
Preppy jogged off to get him another one as Bo came crashing into my leg. Max and Sammy had been chasing him around the yard. My father didn’t miss a beat. “Is this the famous Bo?” he asked, crouching down.
Bo hid behind my leg.
“He’s a little shy,” I explained to my father. I reached around to give Bo’s hair a rustle. “Bo this is your...” I paused, not knowing what my dad wanted to be called. Thankfully he finished for me.
My father waved me off. “Bo I’m your Grandpa. You can call me Grandpa or Papa or...” I gave my dad a stern look to remind him that Bo didn’t talk. “You can call me whatever you would like.” Dad took his open hand and held his thumb to his forehead. Bo peered out from behind me. When Dad was sure Bo was looking he moved his hand away from his face making two small arches in the air. “That’s the hand sign for Grandpa.”
My heart melted and I felt like I was going to cry. “What the heck’s wrong with you?”
“I have something in my eye!” I snapped, and my father just laughed. Bo pointed up at me and smiled at his new grandpa. “Oh great, you’re making fun of me too!” I said, reaching around to tickle him.
“I have something for you, Bo,” my dad said. Preppy came around then with my dad’s beer in hand. Dad opened his wallet. Your mom says you’re six years old which means I owe you six years worth of birthday, Christmas, easter...” he counted out several bills before taking everything from his wallet and pushing it into Bo’s hands.