Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Before I knew it, all four of my brothers were tossing food at one another—and at me—like we were still the wild Winslow kids inside our mom’s kitchen, arguing and fighting and wreaking havoc like a freaking Fourth of July fireworks show.
God bless the Winslow family.
“Well, that was exciting,” Kline said as he pulled his SUV to a stop in the driveway in front of the lake house. “A real adventure.” His voice oozed sarcasm, and I couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Nothing like spending hours watching Thatch pick out fireworks, huh?”
“It wasn’t hours,” Thatch retorted, but my daughter didn’t hesitate to correct him.
“Actually, Uncle Thatch, it took you two hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-two seconds.”
A knowing grin consumed Kline’s face, and I laughed again.
But Thatch was not amused. “Lex, sweetheart, do you really have to time everything?”
“Time is relative, Uncle Thatch. But it’s also important.” Clearly, my daughter could not have cared less that she’d just burst the giant’s bubble. “Dad, I’m going to the deck to look at my rain gauge,” she announced as she hopped out of the car, and moments later, she disappeared behind the back of the house.
Ace babbled from his car seat, his little hands busy playing with a small stuffed tiger, and the three of us men hopped out of the car as Kline popped the trunk.
“I think we need to go back,” Thatch remarked once we stood in front of the open cargo area, staring down at the three boxes filled with fireworks. “There’s no way this is going to be enough.”
I turned and looked at him. “Are you blind?”
“No, son, are you?” he retorted. “There’s no fluffing way this is going to last for the three-hour show I have planned.”
“Three hours?” Kline choked on a shocked laugh. “There is no way in hell I’m going to sit around for three hours watching you shoot off fireworks.”
“It’s the Fourth, Special K. The day we celebrate our American freedom in a blaze of glory, and I’m telling ya, this isn’t enough.” Thatch ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I fluffing knew I shouldn’t have listened to you assholes when you said we had to leave.”
“We were there for over two hours, dude,” I chimed in. “We gave you plenty of time.”
“My ass, you gave me plenty of time.” He scoffed. “You two have no idea what it takes to plan a fireworks show.”
“Assssssssssss!” Ace shouted at the top of his lungs. He was still strapped into his car seat, but apparently, the kid didn’t miss a fucking beat. In less than a week, he’d expanded his nonexistent vocabulary by three words—shit, fuck, and now, ass.
“I swear, my kid is going to be the reason I can’t have kids anymore. Swimmers, gone. Nuts, hacked. Dick, crushed,” Thatch muttered and walked away from the trunk to unstrap Ace from his car seat and lift him into his arms.
“Assssssssssss!” Ace squealed again, and a fit of giggles followed.
“Acer, no,” Thatch said and tickled his belly. “That’s a bad word. If you want Daddio to live to see another day, you gotta clean up your language, bud.”
“Okay, it was a real treat going on this adventure with you guys, but I’m heading inside to see what my wife is up to.” I didn’t make it far, though, maybe a couple of steps, when the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway caught me off guard. Through the windshield, I could see the reflection of Winnie’s uncle Brad’s aviators and her aunt Paula’s sparkling diamond ring.
What the hell are they doing home?
Instantly, a grin consumed my face. Winnie’s aunt and uncle were two of my favorite people from her family. They were kind and laid-back and just…a real good time. Especially her uncle Brad. He had the best dry sense of humor of anyone I’d ever met.
“The party is here!” Brad shouted out the driver’s side window as he honked his horn, and Paula’s responding smile consumed her face.
“B-man!” Thatch shouted toward them.
“I thought you guys were on a cruise?” I asked as they climbed out of their car.
Brad’s face lit up with a happy smile. “We were, but when we found out that all of our kids and our little Lexi were here at the lake house to celebrate the Fourth, we decided we wanted to be here more.”
“More than the Caribbean?” Thatch asked, and Paula laughed.
“Okay, well, truthfully, we hit a storm with twenty-to-thirty-foot waves and had to turn back.”
“Damn boat was bucking like a bull,” Brad agreed humorously. “I almost shit my pants when the shower water climbed the wall of the bathroom on me.”
“Funny, I usually don’t wear my pants in the shower, B-man,” Thatch remarked shamelessly, making Brad give him the finger.
“Well, here. Let us help you with your luggage,” Kline offered. “It’s the least we can do for you guys letting us crash here for the week.”