Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
So that’s exactly what we do.
Paige and I walk side by side, a little behind Deaton, who is excited to lead the way, proud he remembers how to get here from their apartment.
The second it comes into view, he breaks into a run. Holding his little jar of candies tightly, he rushes for the swings, folding his belly over the thick rubber seat and kicking off with his feet.
“Uncle Chaser, push me! Push me and Paige!”
Paige grins and lowers herself into the swing beside him as he turns around, and I help him up into the seat, having to pry his candy from his hand, but I don’t put it far, setting it in the sand right against the pole.
I give them both a little push and Paige does her best to try to teach Deaton how to kick his legs, but he can’t quite figure out the motion yet, his little tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he tries.
It’s kinda nice, just hanging out here, with nothing else going on. Oddly my mind is quiet right now, which isn’t something I’m used to lately.
Paige glances over her shoulder, meeting my gaze with a small smile, and for a second, I just look at her.
Man, she’s really, really pretty.
Jesus that sounds like such a dumb word to say. Pretty.
She is more than pretty and you know it…
A hint of color starts to crawl up her neck, and I fight the smirk that wants to take over. She’s too easy.
This feels too easy.
“A butterfly!” Deaton shouts suddenly, wiggling in the swing and jumping out before I can stop him, falling to his hands and knees, but he doesn’t seem to care. He starts to run off but not before grabbing his candy. “I’m going to get him!”
Paige laughs, her own swing coming to a stop as she looks up at me, a bit of shyness to her that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Think he’ll catch it?”
“Honestly, yeah.” I laugh, moving to follow as he gets a little farther away, and I can hear her doing the same behind me.
Deaton stops close to a row of flowers that leads back toward campus and drops onto his butt. He hears me coming and looks over his shoulder, putting a finger to his lips, telling me to shush, but there’s no sort of quietness to his tone as he does, and I have to hold back a laugh.
A low sigh leaves her, and I can sense the heaviness to it, my eyes flicking toward her briefly in question.
The smile she gives is a little sad, and I know I read her tone right, especially when she starts sharing. “My dad used to bring me out to this park by our house. It was kind of like this, but it was surrounded by this big walking path that had a garden on both sides and around this time of year is when we’d start to see all the butterflies coming out. We used to chase them around just like this,” she says softly, a mixture of fondness and…maybe longing? “Well, I used to chase them and he used to follow. So yeah, I guess pretty much just like this.”
We share a quiet laugh.
“That sounds nice.” I think of my own childhood, how it was my dad, too, who was the one to take me to the park when I wanted to go. To practices and games. Movies and birthday parties.
Always Dad.
How did I not see my childhood for what it was before? I think absentmindedly, but shake it off when she continues, not wanting to drown in my own shit when I have something else I’d rather distract myself with.
Someone else.
“He’d tell me that catching a butterfly would be my first tough choice in life. Keep what I want for the benefit of myself, or let it go for the benefit of it.” She trails off, her voice so light that I can’t help but look at her.
There’s this serene expression on her face, like she’s living in that memory with her dad right here and now. But then a little smirk takes over and she peeks up at me. “Rude, right?” she tries to soften the moment. “How dare he try and make me set free what I fought so hard for. Sometimes it took hours to catch just one.” She laughs, but I see the importance of it in her eyes.
Still, I play along, because somehow I know she needs me to. “So. Rude.”
She giggles, facing forward. That same soft sigh follows as we stop a few feet back from Deaton, watching as he tries to creep up on his target.
“You ever go back to that park?” I can’t help but ask, tension in my damn chest as I wonder if I’ll ever be able to go home and still feel like it is home.