Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“I love them.”
“Then prove it.” I sigh.
“I shouldn’t have to prove anything.”
Completely over her manipulative bullshit, I walk to the door and hold it open for her, and she glares at me then the door before she stomps past me. The moment she steps outside, I call her name, and she turns to look at me over her shoulder. “You should know I will never force them to spend time with you, so if you want a relationship with them, you need to find a way to earn their trust and build one.”
“Whatever,” she mutters before storming away.
I don’t watch her go; I shut the door and lock it then head down the hall to Max’s room, knocking once before I turn the handle. I find him sitting on his bed with December beside him, her hand on his back. His brother sits on the floor at his feet, Sloth lying next to him. “You okay, bud?”
“Is Mom gone?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
He nods and drops his eyes to his lap. I look at Mitchell, and he gives me a shrug and a sad smile.
“You know your mom loves you,” I say.
He lifts his head and locks eyes with me. “You always say that, and she always says she loves me, but Mitchell was right. She never shows it. And you should show it if you love someone.”
Feeling like I’ve been kicked in the gut, I swallow then order, “Come here,” over the lump in my throat.
“Dad—”
“Please come here.” He gets up and walks toward me slowly, and once he’s close, I wrap my hand around the side of his neck and dip my chin so we’re face-to-face. “You’re right. You should show the people you love that you love them, but sometimes people don’t know how to do that, and your mom is one of those people.”
“You don’t have to make excuses for her,” he says quietly, and I rest my forehead against his. “I know how she is, and I love her, even if she isn’t good at being a mom. I just wish she were different sometimes.”
I close my eyes to hide the pain his words cause and whisper, “Max.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay, not even a little bit.”
“It is, because I have you and Mitchell, December, Grandma, and Aunt Selma and Sejla, along with a whole bunch of other people who love me. I guess—” He licks his lips. “—I guess I just feel bad, because she doesn’t have that.”
“She could,” Mitchell inserts, and Max looks at him. “She could have a whole bunch of people who love her too, Max.”
He stares at his brother for a long time before whispering, “I guess you’re right.”
“Max,” I call again, and his eyes come back to me. “You can’t be responsible for her happiness. It’s not your job. Your job is to be a kid.”
“Okay.” He licks his lips.
“I love you, son.”
“I know.” He nods, and I touch my forehead to his one more time then squeeze his neck. “You good now?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
“Good.” I let him go, and he goes back to sit next to December, who wraps her arm around his shoulders and leans her head against the side of his.
“I’m hungry,” she says after a moment, and we all focus on her. “Who wants ice cream? I’m really craving vanilla ice cream and french fries.”
“You’re so crazy,” Mitchell mutters with a smile, and Max laughs while I chuckle.
“Why am I crazy? Have you ever had vanilla ice cream and fries?”
“No,” the boys reply at the same time.
“Then you can’t say I’m crazy.” She stands and walks toward me then stops to look over her shoulder. “Well, are you two coming?”
“Sure, why not?” Mitchell gets up off the floor and holds out his hand for Max. Figuring they need a minute, I take December’s hand and lead her from the room.
“I need to get a clean shirt,” I tell her and she nods. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She gives me a sad smile.
“He’s gonna be okay.” I kiss her forehead and she nods. “Be right back.” I leave her in the living room and go to the bedroom, seeing her school shit scattered across the bed where she was working when I went to go work out. I grab a sweatshirt off the top shelf in the closet and I tug it on, thinking I need to set her up a space in the bedroom where she can work when she’s home. I also need to get some people together to help me move her out of her place sooner rather than later.
With that thought in my head, I leave the bedroom and usher my family out to my SUV. I drive them into town for hamburgers, fries, and frozen custard. By the time we get home, the boys and December are laughing and teasing each other, the drama from earlier a distant memory.