Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Hey, Mira.” Miles’s voice is in work mode. “How are things?”
“I feel like you’re a robot when you talk like that.”
He laughs. “Yeah, well, I’ve been talking to a lot of engineering nerds this morning, so maybe some of that rubbed off on me.”
“What’s going on?” I grab a water bottle from the fridge and head to my office. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Everything’s good here. But I’m actually calling because I need a favor.”
Naturally. I roll my eyes.
I don’t hear from Miles much. He calls when he needs something, and he’ll occasionally answer a text, but he’s busy with his life, and I get that. It’s not like we were ever close, anyway.
“What can I do for you?” I ask.
“The couple renting my house in Sugar Creek is moving out at the end of the week. I have a friend who’s moving in at the start of June with his son. Could you swing by there on Saturday and just make sure they’re gone?”
I sit at my desk and wake up my computer. “Sure.”
“Do you still have a key?”
“Yes,” I say, mocking him. I pop him on speakerphone and lean the device against a vase of flowers. “I love that you call me for help, but then act like I’d have lost the key.”
“I know you. What can I say?” He chuckles. “So what’s going on in your world? How’s married life treating you?”
Grinning, I stretch my arms overhead.
“That good, huh?” he asks when I fail to answer him.
“If you could see my face, you’d understand,” I say, sighing. “It’s the strangest thing, really. You think of marriage as some heavy, unforgiving contract that comes with all these negotiations. But it’s really not like that at all. It’s kind of like playing house with someone you get to fuck every day.”
“Okay, Mira.”
I laugh. “I’m serious. It’s the exact opposite experience that I thought I would get. It’s … cool.”
“It’s called the honeymoon phase. It won’t last long.”
“Hey!” I smack my lips together. “Don’t pee on my parade.”
Still, I know he’s right and that the honeymoon phase is very real. Four weeks into this experiment, and I keep waiting for things to get harder, but every curve we come upon, we take it in stride. When he comes in tired and grouchy, he takes a shower and returns ready not to be Rancher Hartley but Husband Hartley. And when I start to feel anxiety bubbling in my stomach, he somehow senses it and cuddles me a little tighter that night. Thoughtful Hartley.
It’s a bit of a mindfuck to feel this cared for—not just by Hartley, but by everyone. I’m still getting used to Cathy making me coffee in the morning and Bobby coming to get me when a new animal’s born because he knows I love seeing all the new life. The ability to have lunch with Lolly randomly has been such a treat. I’ve spent more time with her this past month than I have over the last ten years. And even my new girlfriends have included me in everything they’ve done since they texted me the morning after our wedding.
It makes me realize just how cold and lonely my life was before. And I really can’t imagine going back.
“I have a meeting in ten,” Miles says. “Will you call me Saturday and confirm the tenants are out?”
“Yes. I will. You’re welcome for me being such an awesome sister.”
“Thank you, Mira.”
“Bye, Miles,” I say, ending the call.
I get to work, answering a handful of emails requesting various texts. None looks too exciting. Then I check the prices on a couple of different dishwasher models. We swapped out the washer and dryer a couple of weeks ago. But if we don’t get a new dishwasher, I fear we’ll be handwashing dishes every damn day.
I take a sip of water and then get to my feet. The sun is shining high in the sky, and it’s calling my name. I’m at the front door when my phone rings again.
“Hey, Markie,” I say, slipping on my shoes.
“Hey. What’s happening over there?” Markie asks.
I step outside and let the door shut behind me. “Miles just called.”
“Let me guess. He needs something.”
“Of course, he wanted something. He asked me to check on his house this weekend and make sure his tenants moved out.”
She groans. “I love our brother. I swear I do. But he pisses me off more than usual lately.”
I laugh, taking the steps to the driveway. “You’re just mad at men.”
“You’re damn right I am. There are exceptions—and you have one of them—but the majority of men are gross.” She pauses. “Fine. I’ll also give Brooks a pass because he walked you down the aisle, and that’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever witnessed. But we shall never mention this conversation to him because his ego needs no boosting.”