Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
He hasn’t called again or come by.
This is exactly why I have to handle this on my own. Crew’s Crew. I know this. He might be here today and gone tomorrow . . .
I know I can’t lean on him, but damn it if it didn’t feel good to be able to lean on him momentarily. Every day for the past two years has felt like I’m in a war against the world on my own. The war just escalated to nuclear level. If I let Crew in, it’ll set up Ever . . . and me . . . for a letdown later.
“Where’s Uncle Crew?”
Exactly.
“He’s probably working, baby girl.”
She paints away, her knees tucked up under her. “I bet he misses me.”
A knock on the door saves me from having to respond. I walk to it and peek out the window. Hands in his pockets, jacket open, Crew’s twisting a toothpick around his lips.
I open the door and step to the side. He walks in without a word or a glance in my direction.
“Uncle Crew,” Ever squeals and runs to him. He picks her up and hugs her tight, looking at me finally with curious eyes.
“How are ya, monkey?” He sounds like he hasn’t slept much. His voice is gravelly, even for him. His knuckle is sliced and slightly swollen. He catches me looking at it and glares. I glare right back. He better not be coming by here because he’s in trouble or because he’s leaving town. I swear to God, I’ll never forgive him. Screw family, screw blood. If he’s done or is doing something stupid, that’s it. I’m done even entertaining the idea that he can be a part of our lives.
“I’m good. Come see my painting. I painted something for you.” She kicks her legs and he lets her down. Ever takes his hand and leads him to the table. He takes the toothpick out of his mouth and sticks it in his pocket.
“That looks like a monkey,” he says, sitting at a chair.
“It does, I know. And here’s my sunshine.” She shoves her yellow painting in his face. He takes it and smiles. “And my tree.” Everleigh looks around the kitchen. “Mommy! Where’s my tree?”
I snatch it off the counter and hand it to her, crossing my arms in front of me. I hate the feeling of relief I had when I opened the door and saw him. I also hate the start of concern I felt when I saw his hand. These are dangerous things to feel. I need to find the anger I normally have towards him. Anger is easier. Anger is doable.
“This is our family tree. That’s me and that’s Mommy. And that,” she says, pointing to the blue blob at the top, “is Daddy.”
Crew laughs, his smile soft as he watches Ever and her excitement. “Here!” She pushes the green paint towards him. “You put on a green leaf.”
“Ah, well, I . . .” He twists in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. “I think it’s perfect the way it is.”
“No, it isn’t. I want you on there, too! Please!”
He takes off his jacket and looks to me with pleading eyes. I shrug, not about to help him by getting him out of it. Do I want him on our family tree? Nope. But he can figure it out for himself.
Instead, he takes his thumb and adds a print in bright green to the sheet.
“Yay!” Ever squeals, bringing the sheet back to me. “Will you dry it?”
I nod and take it from her. She runs back to Crew and jumps on his lap, taking something discreetly from his palm and shoving it in her pocket.
“How ya feeling today?” he asks.
“Ah, good, I guess.” She wrinkles her nose. “I had a nightmare last night.”
My ears home in; this is news to me. “Oh, yeah? What was it about?”
She shrugs and traces the gray lettering on Crew’s shirt. “I woke up scared. I had a dream that I woke up and no one was here. Mrs. Bennett was even gone. It was just me and the kid across the street.”
“Well, that’s crazy, so you know it’s not real. There’s no way that mommy of yours will ever leave you.”
He glances at me and smiles and I can’t help but grin back. “But Daddy left me,” she points out.
Crew’s smile fades quickly. “Not because he wanted to, monkey. Your daddy loved you more than anyone ever loved anyone.”
“I know,” she whispers.
“Tell you what,” Crew says. “Tomorrow, I’ll bring you something to help with your bad dreams, okay?”
“You will?”
“I will.” He tickles her and she wriggles in his arms, giggling. The sound is beautiful and I close my eyes and just listen. It’s interrupted by someone at the door, so I walk over and answer it.
“Hi, Julia.” Olivia is standing on the porch, holding the hand of her granddaughter, Rory. She looks in the house and sees our visitor. “Hi, Crew.”