Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
But Kane and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When the noise finally dies down, and the last calls of ‘G’night!’ and ‘Love you!’ are shouted out, Mom and Dad are finally alone.
For a few hours at least.
I’m propped up on my pillows, trying to keep my eyes open, while Kane’s editing some video he’s shot over the past week.
A gentle rapping at our bedroom door forces my eyes open wide.
It’s Marcus.
Our eldest and most elusive son.
At twenty, he doesn’t have to ask to do a lot of things, but he was raised knowing he could and probably should ask us anything.
That’s what we’re here for. Not just telling him what to do, we’re here to help.
And having him give us the heads up about what he’s doing or where he’s going is normal for him.
Just him being polite.
Touching base.
“Uhhh. Mom, Dad?” he asks, blinking around the edge of the door after I tell him to come on in.
“Hey, Marcus,” Kane smiles, looking over his glasses perched on his nose.
“I was gonna ask earlier, but I forgot…,” he says. His deep voice sounding more like his dad’s every day, not to mention his size.
“What is it, sweetie?” I ask, giving a little stretch and a yawn, patting the edge of our bed so he knows he can have a seat.
“It’s Blake. My friend from college? His mom’s coming to town, renting a summer house. And well, Blake was wondering if I could stay a few days. Like a sleepover, I guess.”
I know it’s immature.
I know it’s not very grown up.
But whenever one of the kids even thinks the word ‘sleepover,’ Kane and I have to work double hard not to laugh.
It’s kinda our inside joke as parents.
“A sleepover?” Kane asks, hamming it up for my benefit, trying to make me giggle and almost succeeding.
“Isn’t Blake that boy with a hot, older mom?” he adds. His voice practically booming the words as I start to lose my composure.
“Dad…,” Marcus groans, turning to me. The sane and adult voice of reason. “Mom? Can I have a sleepover at Blake’s?”
“Of course, you can, honey. Thank you for letting us know,” I say sweetly.
“Thanks,” he smiles, turning to go but pausing at the door.
“I dunno why you guys think sleepovers are so funny. It’s just staying over at someone’s house. There’s nothing weird going on,” Marcus says with a hint of defensiveness in his voice.
Both Kane and I nod and agree quietly, putting our serious parent faces back on. But only until he’s closed the door and his heavy steps disappear down the hall.
“Here we go again,” Kane groans, rolling his eyes. “This is how it starts, remember?” he asks me, and I finally crack up.
“Hey!” I call out over him. “How would you know if Blake has an older, hot mom?” I ask him.
“I don’t,” Kane admits, shrugging. “I was just winding him up.”
“Maybe we should be more careful,” I suggest. “We don’t wanna give the kids a complex about having sleepovers.”
Kane grunts in agreement, suddenly acting all tired from all his editing and the long week we’ve just had.
After closing his laptop, he pecks my cheek goodnight, and we turn out the lights.
His huge hands reach for me under the covers after about three seconds of darkness.
“You awake?” he whispers.
“Ummm. Yeah,” I reply, knowing exactly what’s coming.
“You wanna have a sleepover with me? Tonight?” he asks, trying his best to keep his tone serious.
I giggle softly, rolling over to face him and stroking his cheek.
“I wanna have a sleepover with you every night, remember,” I tell him, leaning over and whispering in his ear exactly what I want him to do to me.
Making his eyes grow wide as he pretends he’s hearing it for the first time.
“We did good, didn’t we, Jen?” he asks me suddenly. Crimping his mouth as he holds back a wave of emotion.
“Yeah,” I whisper back, feeling a lump in my throat when I think of the twenty amazing years we’ve had so far. “Yeah, we did good,” I agree.
And just like our first night together, Kane holds me so tight but tender. So lovingly as he kisses me.
In the same house, the same room even.
Twenty years of wedded bliss and the man can still make me laugh, cry, and a whole lot more—all in the same night.
“Happy Anniversary, darling,” he rasps. “Here’s to twenty more years.
“Happy Anniversary, Kane,” I whisper back.
“Best sleepovers ever,” he reminds me.
And we take our time, reminding each other just how special they are.
Every single minute of it.