Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Weston drove through campus, but not before I could snap a photo of the Spider mascot on the gates. I hadn’t paid attention to many colleges until March Madness, when Cutter made me fill out a bracket, but the Richmond logo with the Spider mascot was pretty cool.
“We’ll have to go to the school store,” I said as we looked for a parking spot. “Cutter will want something.”
“Cutter’s right here,” he said, laughing. When Miri died, I thought he was going to turn into an unruly teen, defying me every chance he could. He hadn’t. For a while, when I’d first arrived, things were touch and go with his attitude. I thought that was probably normal for any teenager experiencing a change in hormones.
He added, “Yeah, yeah. I want something from the store. Is that better?”
I glanced over my shoulder and smiled. He was such a bright spot in my life. I couldn’t imagine not having him or Nova filling my days. I was so grateful to Miri for asking me to become their guardian, and then the kids for asking me to adopt them. They had completed my life.
Well, and Weston. He was a pretty amazing addition.
Weston parked near the baseball facility, and we got out. Cutter and Weston walked a pace ahead of me and my short legs. I took the opportunity to look around as I trailed behind. The campus looked beautiful. I’d gone to a city school, and we had very little green space unless we went downtown to the park. Here, there was rolling green, lush land.
“Weston, thanks for coming.”
The voice of a man dressed like he was about to play baseball bro-hugged Weston. “Cutter, I’m Coach Sisto,” he said as they shook hands.
“This is my mom, Toni,” Cutter said, introducing us. He referred to me as Mom because it was easy, but I’d always be Toni at home, and I was more than okay with it. I didn’t need the title because I had his and Nova’s love and affection. They treated me with respect and kindness, and they came to me with any issues.
One of those issues was Eleni. I liked her. A lot, actually. She was very nice to Nova, which was important to me, and extremely respectful and polite. She reminded me a bit of Miri when she was seventeen and in love with the wrong guy. Not that Cutter and Eleni were wrong for each other; there were things like college, sports, and discovering who he was that I wanted to see Cutter excel at.
Ever since prom, Eleni had mentioned a couple of times that she planned to follow Cutter to college so they could be together forever. This worried me. If he earned a scholarship or even a spot on a team to play either basketball or baseball, that was where his focus would need to be. Not on his high school girlfriend.
Coach Sisto held the door open and waited for me as I lagged, lost in my thoughts. I vaguely remembered getting a tour of Boston University all those years ago but couldn’t tell you a dang thing about it. I’d opted to live off campus with Miri and Cutter. They were far more important.
The tour started with Coach Sisto showing us one of the dorm rooms. It was as big as Cutter’s room but made smaller by another bed, dresser, and desk. I watched him for a reaction to see if I could gauge where his mind was. He kept his face stoic, asked questions we had prepared earlier, and listened intently. I was proud of him.
After a quick stop in the cafeteria, we made our way to what Weston and Cutter deemed the important stuff: the athletic facilities. All the state-of-the-art gizmos and gadgets were lost on me. The tour included methods and tools to keep Cutter healthy and safe, the “newest” in technology for this and that, a weight room to rival every other school in the division . . . the list went on and on and didn’t interest me as much as it did my guys.
Two hours later, we were back on the road and heading north. Cutter talked excitedly with Weston about the school and filled me in on the process of applying. He would still play in his high school season next year and would have to make a decision by the first of May, which was national signing day.
All I knew was that if Cutter could land a scholarship to play ball—that would be the best thing for him. It would give him purpose, something to live for, and the ability to chase his dreams.
We stopped in Boston for the night, for no other reason than to check on my penthouse. I hadn’t given it up yet and wasn’t sure I planned to. It was a nice little getaway, albeit a rather expensive one. We made it a point to get here at least one weekend a month. Although with it being this close to the water, the kids now wanted a boat.