Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
One song rolled into another, then another. I knew I could stop, could put the baby down and rejoin the party. But I couldn’t seem to make myself.
So I just kept rocking and singing.
Until something moved in the corner of my eye, making me turn to find out that just about the entire Grassi family had moved into the den to listen.
My gaze scanned the crowd and found Milo, who was watching me with a look that made my chest feel tight.
The second I finished singing, the baby jerked hard and woke up screaming.
“It’s not you,” the baby’s mother said, rushing forward. “It’s time for a bottle.”
With that, she made her way out of the room. The rest of the family followed.
But Milo walked toward me.
“Wasn’t prepared for how it would feel to see you singing to a baby,” he admitted, arms going around me, pulling me close.
“I wasn’t prepared for how much I would like it,” I admitted, melting into him.
“We gonna have one of those one day?” he asked.
“Just one?”
Milo - 6 months
Roe was in the kitchen, painstakingly wrapping all the glassware up in tissue paper before sliding it into the dividers in the moving box.
We still had three days to go before we moved into the new place, but she was determined to have it be a low-stress move. She wanted everything done ahead of time so there was no scrambling.
There wasn’t going to be anything to stress out about. Once my family descended on the apartment on moving day, they would handle it all from there. It was one of the many benefits of such a large family.
But she was ‘nesting,’ apparently (according to my mother) so I was just rolling with it.
“Right?” I asked Alley as she climbed up on my lap to take an afternoon nap.
The show I was watching turned over to the news, recounting random government shit, another mass shooting, and then, finally, something that had me sitting up straighter.
“American businessman Frank Martin died Monday night following a fall in the Greek town of Fira. Authorities said Martin’s death appears to be the result of an accidental fall.
“The incident has prompted renewed discussions about the safety conditions in the popular tourist destination, known for its steep stairways, dramatic elevations, and limited railings. Municipal officials stated that safety standards meet existing regulations.”
The camera panned to the other newscaster as they told a story about a dog who saved a missing toddler.
So.
Frank was dead.
Remo must have been popping the champagne.
I wondered which of his men (or his brothers) got a free vacation in Greece in exchange for one quick push.
“Did I just hear Frank’s name?” Roe asked, coming out of the kitchen, shoulders tensed.
Neither of us said it, but I think we were both holding onto some anxiety about him for the past six months. It felt like that chapter wasn’t fully over.
Now, I guess, it was time to turn the page.
“Yeah, freak thing. He fell down some stairs in Greece,” I said, putting on a shocked voice that had a smile stretching across her gorgeous face.
“Really? Wow. What a tragedy. Poor Remo is going to need to run that casino all by himself now.”
“I know. Maybe we should go pay him a visit. Give him our condolences,” I said, reaching for her when she got close, and pulling her down next to me.
Alley grumbled and jumped off my lap.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing what he’s been working on.”
“Maybe sing a set?” I prompted.
She always brushed me off when I brought it up, but I worried sometimes that she missed singing, missed having an audience.
“Maybe,” she agreed, curling into me. “Do you think this timing was purely selfish of Remo, or was the timing symbolic?”
“Knowing Remo, a bit of both. He knows we’re closing in a few days. Maybe it’s a housewarming present. But we’re also heading into the off-season for AC, so he probably wants to devote time and resources to renovations before spring comes around again.”
“Either way, it’s finally over.”
“It is.”
“I know your cousin owns an event venue,” she started, turning the ring on her finger so it caught the light.
“But?”
“But maybe it would be fun to have our wedding at the casino. When the renovations are done. The place is tragic right now.”
The casino would mean we had to push off the wedding for a while.
But I wasn’t in a rush.
We still had to move in to the house, make the place a home, take a vacation I’d been planning for her birthday.
There was a lot to look forward to.
And we had plenty of time for milestones.
“I think that’s a great idea.”
“And everyone can stay at the hotel, so it’s all really safe.”
“And the beach and Boardwalk would make for some memorable wedding pictures.”
“Exactly.”
“It’s decided.”
“It is,” I told her, pressing my forehead to hers. “So, what do you want to do for dinner?”