Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
"I'm so proud of you for helping her, you know. For setting up the house and getting that whole operation going." Leah smooths her skirt down and licks her lips before walking over to the glimmering Christmas tree and fussing with some ornaments.
"She did the hard work. I just tried to set her up for success."
While Mom was in rehab, Leah decided to excise a few demons of her own. The driver who'd hit her family had been through treatment facility after treatment facility, only to fail every time he got out.
So Leah took to building sober houses like a lioness on the hunt. I helped her set up a non-profit with a big chunk of her inheritance, and we opened six homes, each one for a different kind of addiction.
Now Mom helps run the main house, the one for opiate and prescription addiction. The two most important women in my life have become as close as any mother and daughter, and it gets me every time.
May and Decker are working on baby number two. May got her panties in a twist when she found out Leah and I would have two before she and Decker did. Not at us, just stomping and glaring at Decker, and demanding he get her knocked up again, the second their first one's here.
She wants twins next time, or triplets if she can swing it. Decker just shook his head, smacked her behind, and about ten minutes later, the two of them disappeared upstairs for an hour. They keep a suite here for weekends and holidays, but they call Decker's place home.
Victor took his plea deal, and we've never seen or heard from him again. Word is, he decided the Cayman Islands would be a great long term vacation destination, so he spends a lot of time gone.
Wilson grew on me. Slowly, sure, but he's not a bad person. It didn't hurt his case when I learned a little about his past, taken out of his own home at eleven for abuse and neglect, separated from two younger sisters he never saw again. That kind of wound leaves a scar.
We've had a few man-to-man talks since the day he and Victor took the girls. He's dating Cindy now, and the two of them look headed down the aisle before long.
"Brutus." That's my nickname, but Leah only pulls it out when she really needs something, or when something's wrong.
I've settled on the sofa, watching her fuss with the Christmas tree.
"Baby? What?"
"I'm pretty sure I just had a contraction." Her smile lights up the whole room, and me with it.
"Are you sure?" I'm on my feet in two seconds.
"Yes. I thought maybe I had one earlier. But I just had another one."
"What do we do? Go to the hospital?" My mind is spinning.
"No, silly. I'm sure I've got hours. I think we're going to have a Christmas baby. It's nine o'clock now. I'm pretty sure the best Christmas present ever will be here tomorrow."
"Jesus. I'm so fucking happy. Are you sure we shouldn't go now? I think we should go now." I'm terrified something might go wrong.
"Calm down, I'm sure."
"Okay, but let me give you one of your presents now, in case we're busy tomorrow."
I step past her, brushing a hand across her belly before kneeling to fish out the one small box I hid under the tree. She's a terrible sneak. She's shaken every box, and I even caught her peeling up the tape on one to peek.
"Hey, I didn't see that one." She gives me a quizzical look.
"Yeah, I buried it under all the others so you couldn't cheat."
"Gimme!" She's got grabby hands, and I don't fight it. I set the little square box in her open palms.
"Merry Christmas, my love."
She's tearing off the wrapping paper like a little kid. Only, this gift is not what she's expecting. I've managed to find or commission every unicorn piece of jewelry I could think of. She has to swap them out to give each one its proper attention.
I watch her face, giddy as a kid myself. Her reaction is priceless.
"What, are you kidding me?" She bounces on her tiptoes, holding the splayed-out cards.
"I told you I was going to tattoo your sweet ass."
We've had an ongoing battle about tattoos. She wants a unicorn tattoo, but she hates needles. I don't care one way or the other. She'd be beautiful with ink or without.
"I had them each designed by a separate tattoo artist. Some of the best in the country."
"Oh my God, you are the best gift giver ever!"
I reach down to cup her cheeks and plant a kiss on her smiling lips. "One condition."
"What?" She's already pulled away, plopping down cross-legged on the floor to spread all fifty-two temporary unicorn tattoos out where she can see them. "I was sure I was getting blueberry Poptarts again."