Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 134706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Marley rolls her eyes. “I do, actually. Let’s face it, Claire. Fletcher doesn’t exactly take orders well.”
I blow out a big deep breath. “Hopefully his afternoon will be better.”
Marley smiles. “It will be. Don’t you remember what it was like to start a new job? Everybody’s first day at a new job is bad, Claire.”
I shrug. “I guess you’re right.”
“Everything is going to be fine. Relax, and let him go. He’s nearly a man. He needs to find his own way.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sigh. I pick up my pen and try to get back to work. Nightmare images of my poor little baby all alone in that big cranky corporate office are flying through my mind.
Why couldn’t he just go to university?
I stir the cheese into the large pot of spaghetti bolognese. I finished early today, and although I wanted to pick Fletcher up from work, I let him catch the train home. I’m really trying my hardest to give him a little tough love. He wants to be a big boy and work; he needs to learn how to be self-sufficient. I look at the clock. Where is he?
I glance up at my other two sons, who are sitting at the kitchen counter. “How did it go at school today, Harry?”
“Okay.”
“How was Mrs. Parkinson?”
“A witch, as usual.” He sighs.
“I don’t think it’s very nice to be calling your teacher a witch.”
“Yeah, well, if she stopped acting like one, I wouldn’t have to call her one.”
“Just stay out of trouble, please, Harry. You’re on your last warning at that school. I need you to behave. You need to show everyone how smart and charming you really are.”
Harry rolls his eyes. Patrick smiles goofily up at me.
“Now let’s be nice when Fletch gets home. He’s had a really bad day. And I want you boys to try and make him feel better.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?” Harry asks with an eye roll.
“Just talk about things and take his mind off it. Make him laugh. Try and make him see that things aren’t as bad as he thinks.”
Harry smiles. “I think they are as bad as he thinks. Imagine working with that pompous donkey.”
“You don’t even know him,” I snap. “You can’t say that; he’s a nice man. And he’s Fletch’s new boss, so you show him some respect.”
We hear the front door bang, and Fletcher comes into view. His hair is messed, his tie is askew, his jacket is off, his shoelaces are undone. He looks like he’s been to hell and back. I bite my lip to stifle my smile as I give him a hug. “How is my big working boy?”
“It was literal hell.”
My face falls. “Why? What happened?”
“Basically, I ruined everything I touched.”
“That’s okay. You’re only new; they can’t expect you to know everything. Nobody knows everything on the first day.” I smile as I watch him. “What was the last thing that he said to you?”
“Don’t you dare be late tomorrow.”
I frown. “Didn’t he say ‘Thanks for your first day’?”
“No, Mom. I told you he’s an asshole.”
“Hmm. Well, let’s just see how tomorrow goes.”
“I’m not going back.”
“Yes, you are, Fletcher,” I snap. “You’re going to work two weeks there. I will not have you embarrassing me. If you don’t like it after two weeks, you can stop, but you will ride it out and at least give it a chance.”
Fletcher rolls his eyes and sits at the table, and I put his spaghetti bolognese down in front of him. “I made your favorite.”
“I’m too tired to eat it.”
I fake a smile and run my fingers through his hair. “I know, baby, me too.”
I sit at the table and wait for Fletcher to arrive home from work. Honestly, who knew having a child start work would be so stressful? I can’t think, I can’t sleep, and I’ve been leaving work early every day so that I can get home well before he does and cook his favorite meals.
Tristan is giving him hell, and I know that he may need it. But the mother in me is worried that Tristan is just trying to teach him a lesson over the way they met. I close my eyes in horror. I can’t even think of that day without cringing. Whipping him with underpants and then trying to stuff them in his mouth . . . oh, the horror.
What on earth was Fletcher thinking?
But you know what? I’m proud of Fletch. I’m proud of him for making it above all those other candidates, for taking the job in the first place, and then for having the courage to stick with the job and go back day after day.
The door bangs open, and I smile and pick up the chocolate cake I just made him. He comes around the corner, and I force a smile, even though I feel like bursting into tears at the sight of his sad face. “Hi, Fletch.”