Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I toss and turn most of the night, my mind going over how I’m going to try to get my son to like me or even accept me. I have the sound of Darth Vader in my head the whole time saying, “I am your father.”
Slipping out of bed at five in the morning, I grab my laptop and a cup of coffee and go into my home office and get a couple of hours of work done before I get up at seven and start to get ready, in case they wake up earlier.
I dress in a blue suit, and I’m on coffee number three when she texts.
Eli: We are up and just getting breakfast started.
I put my coffee cup in the sink, trying to steady my heartbeat, and the sudden urge to vomit hits me right away. I have never been this nervous in my life. Not with midterms, not passing the bar, not even going toe-to-toe with Leonard over how he wanted to proceed with a case and I wanted to go a different route.
I walk over to her house, and my hand shakes when I reach up and ring the bell. The wait is torture until I hear footsteps, and I hold my breath, thinking I’m going to meet my kid. I’m going to meet my son. The door swings open, and I thought I was ready for anything. I was not expecting her to answer in a fucking robe.
“Hey,” she says, her hair piled on her head and her face free of any makeup. “We just got up.” She looks me up and down, moving out of the way so I can come in the house.
“I’ve been up since about five,” I tell her, and she looks over at me. “I couldn’t sleep.”
When she puts her hand on my arm and squeezes it, it’s the first time she’s touched me since I saw her again. “It’s going to be fine.” She turns and walks to the kitchen, and I follow her and finally see my son again. He looks over at me and stops dragging the chair from the table to the counter.
“What are you doing?” Eli asks him, and he looks at his mother.
“I’m getting cereal,” he says, looking at the chair and then pointing at the shelf he was going to get the cereal from. I know that even with the chair, he wouldn’t have been able to get it and then he would have tried to get on his tippy toes and then he most likely would have lost his balance and fell. Jesus, I’m already thinking like a parent.
“I’ll get you cereal,” she tells him, taking the chair away from him and then turning on him. “And don’t let me find you standing on the chair,” she tells him. I don’t think he gave a shit about the last thing she said because he hops or skips back to the table. She grabs a bowl and fills it with cereal, then brings it over to him. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thanks,” I say. “I’m okay.”
I stand here awkwardly as she gets her coffee and then walks over to the little kitchen nook that holds a round table with six chairs. Aiden is on one of the chairs on his knees as he tries to bring his spoon of cereal and milk to his mouth without spilling everything. He is failing miserably. I wait for her to sit down before going to sit down at the table. “Aiden,” she calls his name, and he looks up while chewing. “Do you remember Luca?” He looks at me and shakes his head no while trying to get another spoon of Froot Loops in his mouth. “Well, Luca and I have been friends for a long time now.”
He speaks with his mouth full, trying to catch the milk that spills out with his hand. “You said you didn’t have friends.”
I roll my lips together to stop from laughing. She looks over at me and then at Aiden. “I said I didn’t have many friends.”
“Oh,” he says, not giving a shit about what his mother is saying and just looking to greet the next spoonful of Froot Loops.
“Why don’t we wait for him to finish eating before we tell him?” I suggest, and she just nods. It is the longest five minutes of my life. When he tries to scoop up the last Froot Loops, it keeps falling out of the spoon, over and over again.
“Are you all done?” she asks him when he finishes drinking the milk from the bowl, which is something I still do.
“Yup,” he says, out of breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Okay, well, Luca came over today so we can tell you some special news,” she starts, and he looks at her. “So you remember what I told you about your dad?”