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)
“Right? Sure, we had to build a freaking mushroom shed to make it happen, but now we have all kinds of mushrooms growing. More stuff for the farm stand. Are you going to put veggies on your pizza?” Kit asked our girl.
She tried not to let her face scrunch up. “Maybe.”
She absolutely would not.
“Kind of hard to be a vegetarian if you don’t eat veggies, babe,” Kit said, mussing up her hair. “Take the basket. Drop it off next time you visit.”
“Mom!” our son yelled, running up so fast he tripped over his constantly untied shoes, dropped to his knees, then rushed to his feet again.
“How did the chickens like the worms?”
“One of them ate a horse fly!” he said, his eyes huge. “It was awesome!”
“As someone who has been bitten by one of those jerks,” Ariah said, “it was pretty awesome.”
“We get flies in the house sometimes,” our boy declared.
“Nice try, kid,” Nave said. “We’re not getting a house chicken.”
“Lizards eat bugs,” he said, making his eyes all big, looking super innocent. It was moments like that when we saw the genius hidden behind all the outward crazy. The kid had been dropping hints about getting a damn reptile for months. But since children couldn’t be trusted to take care of pets, and neither Nave nor I was all that fond of the idea of feeding a lizard live bugs, we were leaning toward staying a dog family.
“Speaking of bugs,” Kit said, shooting us a smirk. She was a mom herself. She knew how important a change in conversation was at times. “I can expect you to come and check on the monarchs the day after tomorrow, right?” she asked the kids.
That got a lot of enthusiasm. And I couldn’t help but love how much my kids adored the homestead. Sure, it had only been my home for a very short period of time, but it had left such an impact. This place, these women, they had been such an integral part of my healing. I was so glad my kids could find their own appreciation of it.
We had so much to offer our kids.
And I would be eternally grateful for this big, crazy, amazing family we got to be a part of.
“Ready to go see Grandma and Grandpa?” I asked, needing both myself, Nave, Kit, and Ariah to corral the kids into the car.
“What’s that look?” Nave asked when we got to Lazarus and Bethany’s house.
“What do you think about ditching the kids with your parents, getting takeout, and eating in bed in a quiet house?”
“I think that’s just another reason I married you,” he said, reaching for my hand and giving it a kiss.
Nave - 20 years
“Turn on the news,” Dezi said as soon as I answered the phone.
Lolly looked over at me, brows pinched as I reached for the remote to turn it on.
“What the fuck?” I murmured.
“Thought you’d want to know,” Dezi said before ending the call.
The news reporter stood on the edge of the highway, a microphone to her face.
“Fire crews responded early Tuesday morning to a massive blaze that consumed a glass house estate deep in the woods just behind me here, completely destroying the remote home.
‘The house itself was a total loss,’ said Fire Chief Ned Wilson. ‘But interestingly, the fire did not spread into the adjacent woods. That’s unusual for a structure fire of this size, especially given the proximity of the trees.’
“Officials confirmed no injuries were reported. The property was vacant at the time.
“The cause of the fire is under investigation, though authorities said they have no suspects at this time. Investigators are working to determine why the blaze remained confined to the house rather than spreading into the heavily wooded acreage nearby.
“For now, the remains of the glass house stand as a blackened skeleton, a stark contrast to the untouched greenery around it.
“This is Angela Tipper, Channel 12 News.”
“Holy shit,” Lolly gasped, glancing over at me.
But my gaze had slid from the TV toward the doorway to the kitchen. Where our eldest was leaning, a spoon stuck in the pint of cookie dough ice cream, her head cocked to the side, her familiar eyes holding a wholly unfamiliar look.
She’d showered each day since that night she came home, smelling like a bonfire, but I swear I could still smell the smoke clinging to her hair when she moved past me.
It was just a few months ago that Lolly and I had sat her down to tell her about Lolly’s past. About her father, who she’d always known was dead, but whose past we’d protected her from.
But she was an adult now.
She was smart.
She had questions.
And she had the dogged determination to get answers.
So we decided to finally give them to her.
She’d been upset, of course, for what her mom had gone through, for the monster her biological father was. But as far as we could tell, she’d processed it, she’d moved on from it.