Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
“Gotcha,” she replies as I pull into the driveway. “Well, how about you think about it and let me know?”
“Will do,” I say, disconnecting the phone and turning off the SUV. I grab the bags from the seat next to me, getting out and shutting the door with my hip.
Walking up the steps, I open the door and listen for a second before announcing I’m home. I hear Ariella’s voice coming from the family room. “I’m back here.”
I kick off my shoes on the mat and put my bag down at the step before walking back into the family room. I spot her sitting on the couch with Jagger nursing. “Hi,” I say to her and the sound of him unlatching from her breast fills the room as he looks over at me, giving me a smile and then going back to his meal. “Now that’s the smile of my dreams.” I squeeze his foot, making him kick me away.
“He’s a charmer.” Ariella grabs her water jug and takes a deep sip of water as I walk over and place the white paper bag in the middle of the island. Then I walk back over to the family room and sit on the floor next to Jagger’s toys, stretching out my legs. “What’s in the bag?” she asks over her shoulder.
“The most amazing cinnamon rolls I’ve ever tasted in my life,” I declare and she laughs.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” she retorts. “You spent the last ten years without sugar, so you don’t really have the perfect palate for that.” I can’t help but laugh and it interrupts Jagger again, who unlatches and looks over at me. He squirms in her arms and she pulls down her tank top before getting up and handing me Jagger, who now has his fist in his mouth as he gives me a gummy smile.
“Hi, my chonker,” I coo softly, kissing his neck before looking at the table, seeing there are pictures scattered all over. “Did you have a good afternoon?” I ask him and he gurgles at me. I turn and place him on his back in the middle of his activity mat. He knows right away to kick his feet to hear the piano by his feet sing the music. “What are all these?” I cross my legs and pick up a picture of an office.
“That—” Ariella starts, taking one of the containers out. “You brought me a half-eaten cinnamon bun?”
I laugh at her face. “No, that’s for me after. I brought you a whole new one. One for Jaxon also, so you don’t have to share.”
“You love me!” she shrieks, turning to grab a fork and then coming back to sit on the floor next to Jagger. I watch her take her first bite and see her eyebrows go up at the same time her eyes go big. “Okay, this is good,” she praises mid-chew and I laugh at her looking at the pictures. “That”—she points to the pictures with her fork—“is for the office I’m designing. Actually, I was going to talk to you this morning about it.” She used to do marketing with social media but always dabbled in design. She decided to get her interior designing degree while pregnant. Now she just does that and she makes her own hours.
“You need help designing?” I snort. “My whole house was cream and beige.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “It’s for the new foundation that I had a meeting with the other day. Helping women and children leave toxic and abusive families. Really small for now,” she says. “One person works there, and they’re looking for someone else.”
“Okay,” I say, unsure of why she is telling me this.
“I think you should apply for the job.” She puts the roll to the side as “Mary Had a Little Lamb” plays in the background.
“What?” I ask, shocked, not sure I really heard her.
“You can help people like you, who don’t know what steps to take. Why don’t you go on the website and see what their mission statement is?”
“I don’t know.” She gets up and walks over to the front door as I look down and see how bright and colorful she is making this office. She comes back a couple of seconds later and hands me a card. I look down and see K. Hayes and her phone number under it. The name of the foundation is in the middle of the card, Make the Choice. “I haven’t had a job in over ten years.”
“You have nothing to lose,” she tells me, taking another bite of her roll. “You apply for the job and then see if you’re a good fit. No harm, no foul.” I turn the card around, my hands shaking. “The first step is to apply. Then you see what happens next.”