Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
She nods her head. “I’ve never been told I have a pretty laugh before.” She bends over and grabs a pail and I, for some stupid dumb reason, watch her every move. She bends down, and the white bikini bottom rides up her ass cheeks. My mouth waters as I take her in, and I wish I was wearing my sunglasses so I could ogle her without anyone catching me. “How are your castle-building skills?” She stands, looking at me.
“On a scale of what?” I walk over and grab my own pail.
“Of one to ten,” she states as she takes the heel of her foot and makes a square in the sand.
“Negative one,” I tell her as I just watch her. “What about you?” She looks up at me. “You look like a professional.”
She laughs. “Not sure what you think a professional is.” She finishes doing the square. “But I have had some practice with Emma and Mia.”
Penelope comes running over. “What are we doing?” She looks at me and then at Abigail.
“Well, Abigail has built castles before,” I say, pointing at her, “and she was going to tell us how to do it.”
“Really?” Penelope asks with her eyes big.
“Yes,” Abigail confirms and looks at my daughter. “Do you think you have what it takes to make the best sandcastle in the world?”
“Yes,” Penelope assures her and looks over at me. “Do you think you have what it takes?”
“I think I’m going to try my best and hope that I do.” I put my hands on my hips, looking back over at Abigail. “Okay, what do we need to do?”
“There are five steps to making the best sandcastle out there,” she starts, and I roll my lips. She points the shovel at me. “I googled it.” I hold up both my hands. “Step one I already did,” she says, pointing down to the square she did with her foot. “This is how big our castle is going to be.” She looks at Penelope, who just nods. “Step two.” She smiles. “We get to make a huge pile of sand.” She gets on her knees and fills up her bucket. “Then put it in the circle. We can use buckets or even our hands, but we need to get a huge mountain.”
“We can do that,” I say, looking at Penelope. “How about you fill them, and I carry them.” She gets on her knees and fills her pail as I fill my own. We do this for I don’t even know how long, but when I look over, we have a decent-sized mountain.
“Is that enough?” Penelope asks as she stands by the mountain.
“That looks good to me,” Abigail praises. “Ready for step three?”
“Yes.” Penelope claps her hands, jumping up and down. “We are so close.”
“We are going to have to add water to the mountain,” Abigail explains to us. “This way, the sand will become thick like concrete, and we will be able to make a nice foundation for the castle.” She walks to the crystal water and grabs a bucket of water, coming back over and pouring it in the middle. We both follow her to the water, the warm liquid running over our feet as we step in a bit to grab the water. I carry both the pails as we run back and forth to our mountain, and at one point, I stop, and Abigail looks over at me.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, and I laugh.
“It looks like a pile of shit,” I tell her, and she looks over at the mountain that is now half the size because of the water.
“It does, doesn’t it?” She laughs. “But now comes step four. We start creating the castle.”
“How?” Penelope asks.
“That is the fun part,” she says, walking up to the mound and getting on her knees while she pats it down. “We play pancake until it’s level.”
Penelope walks up to her, and she talks quietly to her as I watch. She has always been good to Penelope. Even before I knew she was my daughter, it was Abigail sitting beside her bed, making sure she was never alone, out of the pureness of her heart. I walk over to them, getting beside Abigail as I watch her. My hands now mimic hers as we build the foundation of the castle. Our hands touch each other as we pat down the sand. My whole body fills with feeling from her little touch. I’m trying not to overthink it when I hear her say, “Now, how about we add some steps?” Penelope just nods as she shows her how to do a step. “Now your turn,” she tells Penelope, who does her own step. “Now it’s Dad’s turn.” She smiles at me.
I move over, making the longest step for the bottom. “Well, we have steps.” She claps her hands. “Now, let’s make a couple of towers.” She gets up, and Penelope follows her as they make four corner towers.