Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Man, having Dad back so freaking rocked.
“Okay, I’ll accept the trust,” I gave in.
His smile was so blinding, I didn’t know why I considered turning it down.
“I don’t want you to sell our house,” I blurted.
Dad blinked.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “That was selfish.”
“It’s only me there,” he said gently. “It’s a lot for just me to ramble around in that house.”
“You could find an appropriate woman,” I suggested and wished I’d skipped the “appropriate” when he flinched. “Sorry again. I shouldn’t butt into your love life.”
He hooked my hand around his elbow and started us walking down the hall.
“I’ve been thinking quite a bit since you came back into my life,” he said as we went. “And I’ve noticed something else. I sabotaged myself in relationships, I did the same to the women I was with, so I wouldn’t get hurt again.”
“Oh, Dad,” I whispered.
“I regret the hearts I played with,” he muttered.
“When your own is wounded, you probably kinda can’t see past that,” I said.
“Don’t make excuses for me, Di,” he replied.
I pressed my lips together and nodded.
“I’ll think about keeping the house,” he said.
“You don’t have to. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”
“Maybe I’ll keep it for a while, so you can have some time in it,” he suggested. “We can have some time in it, be a family there again.”
I smiled. “That’d be great.”
He covered my hand at his elbow and gave it a pat, then he let me go so I could let us into my place.
We did some chitchatting before Pete and Dad left.
It was then, Hugger ordered, “Text your girls.”
I nearly lost it laughing, because my man was making it clear he was going to be all over me seeing to Gram (I’d texted her, she’d lied and said she was fine, but at least she knew she was on my mind) and not getting so lost in the drama that had become my life, I lost one of my lifelines (my girls).
And thus commenced me getting into a half hour marathon text exchange with Mel, Bernie and Charlie.
They were all very sad for me that I’d had to make the decision I did, but they were all in agreement that I’d made it.
I did this futzing around and cleaning, including grabbing some of Hugger’s and my clothes to take to the laundry room and loading the washer.
But I was flat on my back on the couch when the text marathon was petering out, so I was prime real estate for Hugger to stretch out on top of me.
(By the way, in the midst of my texting, he helped me strip the bed and change the sheets, and he’d taken the vacuum out to both balconies to suck up the Phoenician dust on the decks, rugs and furniture—and I didn’t even ask!)
I tossed my phone on the coffee table, gladly accepting his weight, and curved my arms around him.
“Got something to say,” he announced.
“And I have ears, so have it,” I invited.
He smiled, but it died when he went on carefully, “Don’t like anyone doing my laundry, babe.”
Oh.
“I did laundry for me and Ma,” he explained. “We didn’t have much, so what we had, we took care of it. Got in the habit of bein’ particular about how it’s done. You see how I do it, you’re good with me doin’ it for us both, then I’ll do yours. If not, we can each do our own.”
Well then.
This suddenly became a very Planning Our Lives Together Conversation.
And I was totally there for it.
“If you keep taking all the chores, I’ll gain fifty pounds eating bonbons and doing my nails while watching Real Housewives,” I warned.
His brows shot up. “You watch that shit?”
“Absolutely not.”
His brows went down and he kissed me.
When he lifted his head, I said, “Okay, I’m too dressed up to do a deep clean. I can do that sometime tomorrow. So what do you want to do for the rest of our fun Saturday?”
Before he could say anything, I listed his options.
“You mentioned Japanese gardens, we have a great botanical garden in Phoenix which is fun to walk through and has a fabulous gift shop. We also have an actual Japanese Friendship Garden, though ‘actual’ is that it’s in that style. Obviously, it’s not in Japan.”
His beard twitched.
I kept going.
“Or we could walk Papago Park, which is incredibly beautiful. Or the movie theater is literally a block away, and they have fantastic recliner seats, if you want to go see a movie. There’s also Talking Stick Casino. I’ve tried my luck as far as I’m going to with that, but you said you’ve been to Vegas. If you dig gambling, we can go, and I can watch you have fun. Then there’s the Biltmore Mall. It’s shopping, but it’s an outdoor mall, it’s pretty and they have great restaurants there. We could have a late lunch at Blanco or Zinburger, then get a gelato at Frost.”