Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
As it turned out, having really cools cars and a boyish haircut was interesting enough for them. Plus, no one could climb a tree like I could, and they were all-too-happy to learn that particular skill even if their parents would maybe have preferred I didn't show them how to scale things they could easily fall out of and break things.
Vance, though, kids flocked to him. His niece especially. Ollie thought he was who made the sun rise in the morning. And he lit up whenever she was around.
We hadn't had the kid conversation. And things were new. We were new. There was time.
But seeing him coo over the tailless rat with the cute squeak, yeah, it was doing weird little squeezy things to my ovaries.
"Think they'll be good practice," Vance said much later that night after we configured and then reconfigured their 'cage,' which was really just a guinea pig maze that stretched half of our living room full of playhouses, with things to climb on, places to do their business, and food. A lot of food stations. Guinea pigs might not have actually been related to pigs, but they sure ate like them.
"For what?" I asked, holding out a romaine leaf to them.
"Raising something," he said. A casual toss out, but there was a little tension behind the words, like he was uncomfortable bringing up, but wanted to regardless.
"I think I might like raising things. I mean, you know, later in life."
"Yeah?"
"I think Ollie would like some cousins," I added, reaching down to rub a butt, getting the purr I was looking for, smiling.
"I'm pretty sure Holden would resent you naming something after him that purrs when you rub its butt."
"Hey, maybe Holden purrs when you rub his butt too. You don't know his life," I shot back, making a chuckle more through him.
"You sure you want to let Olive name the other one? She's heavy into Doctor Who right now. She is probably going to give it some pretentious British name like Basil or Digby, or Aldrich."
"I'm trying to gain her favor back. I really lost some serious points when I told her I haven't seen a single superhero movie."
"She looked at you like you'd sprouted another head when you asked what Shazam! was."
"Kind of hard to tell a little kid you've been living in the woods without electricity for longer than she's been alive."
"True. But I think you're gonna win her over when you sub as her karate teacher next month," he told me.
I was still not sure how I had gotten roped into that one. A bunch of my aunts were talking about how the current sensei was taking an early maternity leave. And not five minutes later, I was somehow signed up for the task of teaching a group of six-and-seven-year-olds how to defend themselves.
"I think it makes sense with your mission in life, "Chris said when I had told her about the whole situation. "You want to make sure girls don't end up in basements like we were. What better way to do that than to teach little girls how to defend themselves, how to stand up to anyone who might push them around?
Really, I couldn't argue with that.
And I needed a paying job.
Sure, there was still the potential to do my mission, to take out bad guys, and to have those expenses covered, but I wasn't living in the woods off the good graces of someone else. I needed to have an income. I needed to pull my weight in the world.
Vance was perfectly comfortable covering things. He'd been infinitely clear about that. And I had been just as clear about not having been raised to be dependent on anyone.
No, my mom didn't work in the traditional sense. But that was after she met my father. That was because it was a decision based on the fact that she had babies to raise and he made more than enough for the two of them.
I knew Vance made good money. All the guys at the club did. But we were new still. And bearing the financial weight of the entire cost of living could easily weigh on someone.
So I was going to teach self-defense to little girls. And I maybe bought myself a new car and half of the rent thanks to the stack of fake money Finch had dropped at my door.
Sure, I was almost positive he did so not out of genuine affection for me, but in some half-assed effort to get on my good side so I would bring Chris around more, but whatever the reason, it was a good sum of fake money that I washed to make real, and then used to start this new life.
It was strange and scary and unfamiliar, but also exciting and fun and comforting. To have a life again. To have family and friends and the opportunity to do things again.