Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I moved in behind her, wrapping my arms around her.
She had the tiniest of swells in her lower stomach, a hint at the bump to come.
“You’re right,” Lolly said, leaning her head back into me. “That changes everything.”
“Which one are you leaning toward?”
“Actually…”
A little laugh escaped me. She’d been full of “actuallys” lately. She claimed it was because it was the first time in years she’d lived in a home where the walls weren’t made of glass. I figured it was because it was the first time she’d ever been given free rein to decorate any way she wanted.
I honestly didn’t have any strong feelings about design, so I was having fun just learning what lit Lolly up. She was particularly fond of the butter yellow color she’d picked out for the kitchen. Each morning when she was getting a cup of decaf coffee, I would find her smiling at the walls.
“Have a fun new idea?” I asked, always careful not to make it sound like it was silly how she was often changing her mind. She’d gone so many years without having any choices. It was natural that she would struggle making decisions now.
“I was thinking maybe of doing a half-wall of beadboard or board-and-batten and then doing a sweet wallpaper on the upper half.”
“Sounds like a great idea.”
“I know I said I wanted solid…”
“It’s important to get it just right,” I cut her off. “Besides, it’s not like either of us are doing the work.”
“Have I mentioned how much I like having prospects to do the hard work?” she asked.
“Even if you feel guilty about it and have to cook for them?”
“I still can’t believe they ate that stew. It was so bad.”
“It was… edible.”
“Sure, if you held your nose and swallowed, like with medicine when you’re a kid.”
“It was, you know, a learning lesson.”
“I can’t believe no one got food poisoning.”
“It wasn’t undercooked.”
She just forgot, you know, broth. So it was water and veggies and spices. Not the worst thing I’d ever eaten, but she’d definitely made better meals. Her specialties were meals that were the grown-up version of cheap childhood meals. Like Hamburger Helper and beef-a-roni.
As a whole, though, she asked me to cook.
And I finally understood why my father seemed to like cooking so much. It wasn’t necessarily the act itself (though I did enjoy that too), but because it was making something for someone you loved.
Yeah, loved.
Honestly, it had been that for weeks, but it was just a few days ago when we’d both said it. We had bellies full of pizza and garlic knots and had both fallen into bed to try to sleep off our food comas. She’d snuggled into me and said the words. It was like a final puzzle piece in my life had clicked into place.
“I definitely think it’s the middle one,” Lolly decided. “For the lower half.”
“Sounds perfect.”
These days, damn near everything did.
Lolly - 3 months
“Matilda,” Luna suggested as she passed the doorway of the library conference room.
So far, all of her baby name suggestions had been based on books. Because, well, it was Luna. Books were her life.
The last one, when I’d first walked in to take my class, had been March. Not like the month, but like the March sisters from Little Women.
“That might go on the list,” I decided.
Ever since we learned the sex, Nave and I had been looking for the perfect name. We really wanted a name that was longer and more adult-sounding but had cute ways to cut it down into a nickname.
Matilda fit the bill. She could be a doctor, a lawyer, a CEO with a corner office.
But also, Matty or Tilly were the perfect little kid nicknames.
“How did your class go?” Luna asked as she rearranged the books on her cart.
“It was amazing. The instructor was great,” I said, sharing a little smile with her.
“Right? I can’t believe someone as talented as him was willing to teach some of his skills for free.”
“Did you bribe Junior, or did Peyton threaten him?”
“A little bit of both,” she admitted.
Yes, Junior.
Teaching a coding class.
I never could have guessed that I would find my passion in computers, of all things. After all I’d been through with Ben, I figured I would have a knee-jerk aversion to technology.
But once I got a laptop, I was hooked. Not just browsing the internet and making design boards for the nursery, the house, the backyard, and the future basement remodel, but getting into the nitty-gritty of how they worked, about coding and hacking and security.
Once Junior told me about how Ben had slowly, methodically found me, how he’d stalked and hurt his exes, an idea sparked.
And suddenly, I knew what I wanted to do.
I wanted to work in internet security.
I wasn’t sure yet if I wanted to be a penetration tester or a security analyst to prevent stalking, or to become a forensic analyst to prove someone was stalked so their abuser could go away. But I knew for sure that I wanted to protect vulnerable women from predatory men in this new day and age of internet stalking.