Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
"Mama, puppy," Aviva said as she looked up at Jenny with her big blue eyes, so wide and innocent and really fucking hard to say no to.
"No puppy," Jenny said in a soft voice before looking over at me. "I'm gonna K-I-L-L Gunner," she told me in a singsong voice so the little ones didn't know how mad she was at their uncle for telling them the last time they were at his house that they should ask their parents for a dog.
"Puppy," Aviva demanded.
"No puppy, Avvy. We have Squeaky," she reminded her, referring to the guinea pig Maisie had conned Miller into buying for her along with the whole setup, knowing that if they showed up with it, neither Jenny or I would have the heart to tell her to bring it back.
One year in, and about all interest in the squeaky little creature had all but faded.
He poops when he walks, Cal had told us when we asked why he didn't play with him anymore.
And, well, the kid wasn't lying.
"Mama?" Aviva said again, slow blinking up at her mother who looked in desperate need of a back rub and a whole bag of potato chips - a perfect combination.
"Yes, Avvy?"
"Widdle puppy?"
"They're very cute," Jenny agreed. "Oh, thank God," she said when the doorbell rang.
I moved toward it, pulling it open to reveal Kai and Jules who had agreed to babysit for a few hours.
"If either of you tell these kids to ask for another creature, I will smother you in your sleep," she told them as she grabbed her purse and was out the door.
"So," I said after giving Kai and Jules a little rundown on the food I had already prepared, climbing in the car with her. "Are we stopping by Gunn's place so you can threaten him too?"
She sent me a tired smile at that as I backed out of the driveway, steering the car in the usual direction. Most parents wanted to go to movies that were meant for grown-ups, go out to eat at a restaurant without having to pack a bag of items to distract impatient kids with.
Not us.
We grabbed coffee, Chinese, and got a hotel room.
To take a long nap.
Without being woken up by screaming, by someone bouncing on our bodies, without worrying that the house might burn down.
We allowed ourselves the luxury once a month.
It was something everyone on the team was okay with because we all did it for one another. We all got a break, and we all got the chance to do the babysitting.
We were walking out of She's Bean Around when we saw a familiar face.
"Hey Eli," Jenny said, giving him a smile that no longer had any pain in it. It took a good three years of knowing him personally to get there, to lose the guilt, for there to be nothing but love there. "Celen," she added, giving the teenager a smile as well. "I swear you grow a foot each time I see you. What are you guys up to?"
"Heading to the pet store," Eli supplied. "They're having a rescue day."
"Oh, no. Did your..."
"No," Celen cut her off. "He's getting old though. We think maybe a friend might pep him up a little."
"Avvy has been begging for a puppy for two weeks straight," Jenny admitted, shaking her head. "We won't keep you. I know the puppies go fast."
We were naive in that moment.
Thinking Eli would never pull an Uncle Eli moment on us, on our kids.
That was until we got home after our nap to find him and Celen in our living room.
With two dogs.
One hideous thing for them which was, apparently, some kind of household tradition.
And one cute as fuck lab mix thing with a bow on its neck.
"Mama!" Aviva shrieked. "Puppy!" she added, putting an open-mouthed kiss to the puppy's ear.
It was something we would have cringed at a decade ago.
But after you came upon your kids licking mud pies they made in the yard, you learned to take that shit with a grain of salt.
"Yes, Avvy. I guess we have a puppy now," she said, giving Eli small eyes that he simply grinned at.
It was the moment I knew for sure that those two were completely beyond their past, that they were simply friends, nearly family members, no hard feelings, no uncertainty, nothing holding them back from being genuine with each other.
"I hope he sleeps through the night," she said later after putting the puppy in its crate with a small bone to gnaw himself to sleep with.
"Well, either Avvy or Fielder will have us up at least twice. Letting him out won't be so bad. Maybe it was a good thing this happened now. If we finally got to the point where we got to sleep through the night uninterrupted, adjusting to house training would probably be all the worse."