Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 160(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
She leans in conspiratorially, eyes twinkling. “So, I thought I’d come by and invite you myself. Would you like to have brunch with us on Sunday?”
I laugh, because what else can you do? “I—I’d love to.”
Her face lights up like I just handed her a winning lottery ticket. “Perfect! All the kids will be there. You like French toast?”
I nod, way too enthusiastically. “I love French toast.”
“I knew it. You and me, we’re going to get along just fine.” Debra leans over the counter and gives my hand a squeeze, her smile so genuine it nearly knocks me over. “Ten o’clock. You bring that handsome son of mine. I’ll handle the rest.”
There’s a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball. I was braced for disaster, but instead, she’s looking at me like I already belong, like this is all meant to be.
“Thank you,” I manage, my voice embarrassingly wobbly, but she doesn’t even blink.
“Of course. I can’t wait for you to meet the rest of the family. See you Sunday, Elsie.” She turns to head to the door. Before she walks out, she adds. “Please tell my son to call me.”
I nod like an idiot, still in full deer-in-headlights mode. My face is on fire, and my tongue feels like sandpaper. “Will do!” Wow, so eloquent, Elsie. I manage a wobbly smile, and Debra winks before breezing out the door, leaving a cloud of expensive perfume in her wake.
The second she’s gone, I nearly collapse behind the counter.
By the time my heart rate slows down, I’m almost giddy. Nervous, but also… excited. My own parents never did the family brunch thing. Most holidays, I’d order Chinese takeout and binge reality TV marathons. The idea of a table full of loud, happy, possibly slightly insane people actually wanting me there?
I want it so bad it makes my chest ache.
I pull into the driveway and spot Mr. Snugglebutt, sprawled on the porch in a sunbeam. He glares at me as I walk up the front porch steps. The cat barely glances up as I fumble for the house keys, like he’s king of the castle and I’m just here for his amusement. I snort out a laugh. Typical. I drop my bag next to the door and toe off my sneakers, already mentally running through my dinner options. Beckett has a late meeting tonight, which means I’m home alone with the unhinged animal mafia and whatever’s lurking in the fridge.
I pop the fridge open and stare into the abyss. There’s a half-empty carton of eggs, a bottle of Beckett’s favorite hot sauce, and three really questionable yogurts. Not super inspiring.
I guess I’ll have to order something if I want to eat. Right now, exhaustion overrides hunger, so I decide I’ll figure out what to order after I have a little nap.
I drag myself to the living room and find Beans napping in his beanbag chair, snoring so hard he wheezes, while Pork digs at a throw pillow like he’s one step away from tearing it open and eating the stuffing.
I ignore the crazy animals and flop onto the couch in a heap. As soon as my ass hits the cushion, every muscle in my body melts. I want to become one with the couch and never move again. I’m so boneless, I hope no one needs anything anytime soon.
Across the room, Beans lets out a whuff, barely lifting his head to acknowledge my presence before resuming his nap. Pork stops digging at the pillow just long enough to glance at me, then goes right back to destroying his victim. I’m surrounded by chaos gremlins and couldn’t be happier.
I hear the click-click of the doggie door and realize Mr. Snugglebutt has come in to join the snooze fest.
I groan and let my head loll back against the couch, staring at the ceiling and trying to summon the motivation to do literally anything. Nope. Not happening. My brain is running on fumes, and the only thing I want is a nap, then maybe some carbs to refuel so I’m ready for whatever Beckett has in store for me tonight.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table, vibrating so hard it nearly launches itself off the surface and into orbit. I lunge for it, flinging out a hand like a deranged goalie, and manage to snatch it before it shatters on the floor.
My screen lights up with Beckett’s name, all-caps and demanding. Just seeing it makes my stomach do a wild flip.
Hottie
Are you home?
Me
Just walked in. You’ll never guess what happened today.
Hottie
If it’s my mother’s unexpected visit, I already heard. Sorry she ambushed you.
Me
She was really sweet. Just like you.
Hottie
I’ll show you sweet when I get home.
Me
Promises, promises. It feels like forever until you get off of work.
Hottie
Surprise. I’m off early. I’ll stop by Mario’s on the way home and grab dinner.