Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Growing up, I knew I’d never be the smartest, or the best-looking, or the funniest. But I could be the one who always showed up. The one who cared the most, and who paid the most attention. That shit’s important when it comes to family.
So, yeah. It’s been tough juggling that role with my role as a single dad. While I’m technically a full-time employee and part owner of Lucky River Ranch, and I get paid the same as my brothers to help run our massive cattle operation, I definitely work less than them.
Much less. All four of my brothers are usually on horseback well before five a.m. on weekdays, and on most weekends too. But I’m not able to join in until Monday, when either my part-time nanny arrives at eight or after preschool drop-off at around nine thirty.
Then there are all the days I miss because Ella’s sick, or my nanny is sick, or I’m sick because, well, my house is one giant petri dish. Don’t forget about the work I miss because of doctor appointments, and occupational therapy appointments for Ella’s poop issues, and shit I keep forgetting to find a pediatric dentist …
My phone vibrates again. My stomach twists. Ella wails. I close my eyes.
Mom. Dad. I really wish you were here to tell me what to do. To tell me that it gets better. I’m trying, but I always feel like I’m messing up. I miss you. So fucking much.
How did they make parenthood look so easy? Rationally, I know it wasn’t easy at all. Not by a long shot. Hell, they had five kids. All boys at that. But what I remember most is them bringing real joy to the roles as mother and father. They were happy, so we were happy.
Opening my eyes, I see that Ella has snuck out to the hallway and is giving Mule a hug that looks more like a headlock. Thank God he’s chill. I debated for a long time whether or not I could handle keeping yet another living thing alive. But I felt so guilty about Ella not having any siblings, and research points to kids getting a boost of self-esteem when they have pets.
So a couple of years ago, we brought Mule home from a shelter. It was love at first sight for Ella. For him? Meh, not so much. But he tolerates her, which I’ll take.
“C’mon, Elly Belly Boo, this will be fun.” I walk out into the hallway and take advantage of Ella’s momentary distraction, yanking the sweatshirt over her head. “Let’s get our pants on—”
“No pants.” Ella sits up and begins to peel off her shirt. “I want a dress.”
Jesus. Effing. Christ.
Bribery is bad. Or so say the parenting books I read. But I’m out of tricks, and we really are running late at this point.
Yanking a hand through my hair, I say, “If you put on a dress and your shoes and you brush your teeth, I’ll give you a piece of chocolate.”
Ella goes still. “What kind of chocolate? The peanut butter kind?”
“Of course it’s the peanut butter kind.”
Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups were my dad’s favorite. When we were growing up, he always kept a bowl of miniature, individually wrapped ones on top of the fridge in the kitchen. When we were good, he’d let us have some of his stash.
I smile, knowing Ella loves them as much as Dad did.
She holds up her first and second fingers. “Two chocolates.”
“I said one.”
“Two.”
“Ella.”
“Fine.” She gets up. “One chocolate. But I get another if I’m good at the park, right?”
Rolling my eyes, I follow her back into her lilac-painted bedroom. “Sure. Whatever. Now let’s get dressed.”
CHAPTER 14
Sawyer
STUCK IN THE MIDDLE
The park.
Ella loves it. I … don’t.
You ask me to my face if I’m a fan of Hartsville’s newly revamped playground with its infinite number of swings, slightly terrifying slides (they are tall), and the adorable seesaws that are shaped like dragonflies, I’d tell you that yes, yes I most certainly am. Ella digs it, so I do too.
Only when you spend as much time at the park as I do, you get a little antsy when you’re there. At least I do. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes I do enjoy playing with Ella here. The two of us dig in the sandbox, making mermaid shapes with our hands. She’ll ask me to sit on the swing beside her so I can teach her how to pump. She’s almost got it.
But other times, like today, I’m really, really glad we’re meeting friends here. Hopefully Junie will keep Ella entertained so Ava and I can take a load off. The prospect of being able to just sit, especially after the morning we’ve had, is more than a little exciting.
Tucking a purple-and-pink soccer ball under my arm, I slide on my sunglasses and wonder who the fuck I think I’m kidding. I’m not excited to sit.