Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Sugar laughs. “Who’s gonna clean you up?”
“I’m a hockey player. I’m used to spinning.”
Sugar nods. “Okay, but you both need to take lots of pics. Julia, does that sound good to you?”
She thinks. “We can grab some lunch and catch up without the kids. Sounds good to me.”
Later, Julia folds up her lawn chair and addresses the kids. “All right, munchkins, creek time is over. Everybody clean up. Let’s go up to the cabin and chill for a while. Maybe play a game.”
“Clean up, clean up, everybody do your share. Clean up…” The kids sing together as they grab toys, towels, and paraphernalia.
As we head up the hill to the cabin, my mom’s voice comes from the back deck. “Who wants freezer pops?”
The kids start running toward the porch, calling “Me, Gigi, me!”
Even Z’s kids call her that.
My mom laughs. “Come on up to the kitchen then!”
“Mom, it’ll ruin their dinner,” I grumble. Julia has taught me well.
“What are you talking about? It’s literally frozen sugar water. They’ll be fine,” Nala responds as she joins my mom at the railing. She leans on her cane. The kids call her Nana.
My mom nods in agreement. “Right. And we get to spoil them. It’s our calling as grandmothers.”
Can’t argue with those two.
The two grands have turned out to be friends, even though they have little in common. Julia’s mom lives near us in Virginia at an assisted living home. We tried to get her to move in with us, but she said she didn’t want to intrude on the newlyweds. After the triplets were born, she stayed for six months to help us out, then left because she said she didn’t want to intrude on our family dynamic. I get it. She still wants to be somewhat independent.
My mother isn’t the shell she was after my brother’s death. She’s vibrant and content, and I guess having grandkids has softened her grief. She visits a lot, but only for a few days at a time. Whenever she does visit, she picks up Nala and they shop, visit the monuments, or just hang out. I truly have no idea what they talk about, but it seems to involve a lot of laughter.
“Your father called,” Mom adds. “He isn’t going to make it. He says we should enjoy our vacation without him. He sends his love to everyone.”
Julia crooks her arm in mine and kisses my bicep. She doesn’t want the fact that my dad isn’t here to bother me, but, of course, I’m not surprised. It doesn’t hurt like it used to. Life goes on. He is who he is and he’s the kind of person that can’t change. On the surface he seems to be over the fact that I chose my own path, but he rarely visits even though business brings him to DC occasionally. His fund is still going strong, and he has a junior executive that’s designated as his successor. When we do see each other, we’re cordial, and he treats the kids great. It’s the best it can be. And I’ve accepted that.
After playing Sorry and Candyland for an hour or so, Z asks if the kids are ready for hotdogs over the firepit. They say they are and we head to the kitchen to grab what we need to start dinner.
Julia wraps her arms around my neck and smiles up at me. “While the big strong men make a fire to burn meat, I’m gonna sneak in some work, okay?”
“Sounds good.” I smack her ass as she walks away.
When we were first married, she did some photography work for a few websites around the DC area and maintained an Etsy shop of her butterfly drawings, but once the kids came, she focused on taking care of them. An author saw one of her drawings on social media and asked her to turn it into a book cover. The book ended up being a bestseller. Now, she gets requests for illustrations several times a year. She’s able to work as much as she wants and do it all from her studio in our house.
Z and I are stacking wood for the fire when my phone rings.
I answer. “Coach? What’s up?”
“Eric, glad you picked up. No one wants to talk on the phone anymore,” is the gruff voice that greets me.
“You usually only call when you have bad news. I thought I’d rather hear it from you straight rather than a voice message. Give it to me, what’s going on?”
“No, no. Nothing bad. It’s good actually, well, for you. Jankovic is retiring. He just left my office. The injury last year still hasn’t healed, and he’s decided twelve years is enough. He’s hanging up his skates, and he recommended you take his place as captain.”
I blink, stunned for a minute with all the information he just dumped on me. “Are you sure? Jank wants to retire and he recommended me?”