Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“That’s charming,” I said drolly.
“You know I love you,” she snapped at me.
“It sure sounds like it.”
“Just do it, show me again,” she said, whining.
“Your brother can make it.”
“My brother’s lasagna cannot be cut by any tools known to man.”
There was that.
“I mean, we’d have to walk to Mordor and bring something back.”
“Which might be dangerous.”
“And would take a minute.”
“Fine.” I relented. “But maybe bring Jake with you so he can get it on video.”
“Absolutely not,” she replied flatly. “That’s what we did the last time, remember? And I got so angry at him there were all those layers and––”
“We nearly destroyed the oven.”
“Nice of you to say we when we both know it was just me.”
I smiled at her, and she walked around the table and hugged me. I liked the hugging.
So with Hannah, her interest in knowing her birth parents or her family was not there. As she said, perhaps down the road, but not at the moment. The last time I spoke to Kola about it, he had zero interest in ever contacting anyone. That all changed early last Friday night when he arrived at home alone. Normally there was Jake, or Harper, or both, and lately, there had been Finn as well, his boyfriend. But he was alone, striding into the house, carrying Dobby, who had, of course, trumpeted his return when he met him at the back door.
“Hi,” I greeted him, surprised to find him in my house since I hadn’t expected him until Sunday. “What’s going on, kid?”
The look on his face scared me to death.
“Love? Come sit down.”
He shook his head but walked over to me still holding the dog and threw an arm around my neck and clutched me to him.
I fought the urge to yell and demand he answer me. Clearing my throat, hugging him back, I said, “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Is Dad here?”
“Yes, he just got home, he’s upstairs changing.”
“Good. That’s good,” he said, letting me go and walking into the living room.
I followed after a moment and noted that, still holding the dog, he was pacing.
“Kola, tell me what’s wrong.”
He stopped, took a breath, and probably would have said something, but Sam came down the stairs then at that exact moment.
“My son is home,” Sam announced, smiling. “Why is my son home?”
Kola immediately turned, put Dobby down on the couch, and charged over to his father and hugged him. Sam wrapped him in his powerful arms, all the while looking at me.
“What is happening?” He mouthed the words.
“I have no idea,” I answered back just as silently.
The back door opened then, and in came Hannah in pajama bottoms, an oversized long-sleeve T-shirt that said Barely Tolerable—she’d been on a Pride and Prejudice kick lately—and a pair of pink Ugg slippers. Her hair was piled up on top of her head in a messy bun, and she looked like she was barely awake.
“What happened to you?” I asked her.
“I had a chemistry test this morning that I was up the last two nights studying for.”
“And why are you here?”
She tipped her head at her brother, who let go of Sam and moved toward her quickly. Getting up on her tiptoes, she lifted up and wrapped her arms around his neck just as the doorbell rang. I turned to Sam, who then put his hand on his son’s back. Kola let go of Hannah and turned to his father.
“My biological parents are at the door.”
We all stood there, frozen, nobody moving.
The doorbell rang a second time.
“I’ll get it,” Hannah announced, recovering the quickest, going to the door, where Dobby was barking his head off, losing his little mind.
“Catch me up,” Sam ordered.
“They, or I should say Mr. Levin, contacted me about two weeks ago. He’s been very adamant about meeting, and I told him I needed to think about it, but he got tired of waiting for me to make up my mind and said he was going to come over here to speak to you guys.”
“Okay,” Sam said, brows furrowing. “I don’t love that he’s trying to rush you.”
“Yeah, I needed more time to think about this.”
“Hello,” Hannah called out, and when I turned, I saw a man who Kola looked a lot like. They had the same black hair, dark blue eyes, and tall, lean muscular build. When Kola was younger, his hair was the darkest brown, but it darkened over time, and once he reached middle school, it was the blue black it was now, that set off the midnight of his eyes.
“Hello,” I greeted everyone, and the man slipped around the couch to come and offer me his hand.
“Wonderful to meet you,” the man said, his smile not reaching his eyes. “I am Dr. Mikhail Levin, this is my wife, Danique, my son Emil, and my daughter, Katya.”