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“You look like you could use a nap.”
Her chin dips to her chest before rising again. “I am kinda tired.”
“Come on. Let’s get you back inside.”
We head inside, straight to her room. She falls to the bed like her legs are unable to handle her weight. Her eyes drift closed seconds later, and a moment after that, her breathing evens out. It gives me comfort to see the peacefulness relaxing her features. I often wonder if dreams plague her like the nightmares that cripple Cat, and pray that they don’t.
Bending at the waist, I carefully whisper my lips over her temple, closing my eyes as her sweet, subtle scent drifts through my senses.
“Sweet dreams, Athena,” I say softly. “Until next time.”
ChapterNineteen
Caterina
As soon as I press send, I sit back in my chair and exhale a sigh of relief. A manuscript that should have taken me three months to complete turned into five months. But it’s finally finished and is currently traveling through cyberspace on its way to my agent for approval. If Darren comes back with big changes, I’m going to use the papers he printed my words on and give him a thousand papercuts. Make no mistake, I love my characters, but this book was a beast to write and was emotionally draining. I’m done looking at it.
I plan to take a month off from writing, but I tell myself that every time I finish a book. It never pans out. I’m lucky if I go two weeks before the need to start my next story drives me crazy, and I’m back behind my desk with a fresh Word document pulled up. I can already hear the voices clamoring in my head, begging for freedom.
The doorbell rings, and I pull up the camera app on my phone. Ginger waves at me, knowing I always check before I come to the door. Her two adorable boys follow suit.
Swiveling in my chair, I grab my coffee cup and drop it off at the bar on my way to the front door. I quickly disengage the alarm and yank the door open. Aiden and Josh immediately barrel their way inside and attach themselves to my legs.
Ginger sighs, walking inside at a slower pace. “I swear they love you more than me. I never get that reaction when I pick them up from kindergarten.”
As I gaze down at the boys, I place my hands lovingly atop their heads. “It’s just because they see you every day. I’m the shiny toy they only get to see every so often.”
“Same ole, same ole mom, huh, stinker one and stinker two?” Ginger says, making them giggle. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you only get one, so get used to it.”
Ginger closes the door, I re-engage the alarm, the security system beeping to let me know it’s set.
“What brings you by today?” I ask, turning to Ginger.
“Ice cream!” Aiden shouts and Josh bobs his head up and down dramatically.
With a grin, I bop the ends of their noses with my finger. “Ice cream, huh? Is that all I’m good for?”
With an amused eye roll, Ginger remarks with mock authority, “We did not come to see your aunt for ice cream.” She looks at me. “We were in town for their five-year check-up, and I figured we’d stop by and see what you were up to.”
“But, Mom,” Aiden says before I can reply. He lets my leg go to hold up his arm, showing off a Spiderman Band-Aid on his skinny bicep. “We got shots today. You said we would get ice cream if we were good. We didn’t cry. Not even a little bit.”
I laugh at his pleading look. His brother matches the look, even though he keeps quiet.
“Sorry, Ginger, but I can’t say no to that. Especially if it’s a promise.” I ruffle both boys’ heads. “And it just so happens, I have an almost full carton of ice cream in my freezer.”
“Yah!” Aiden turns his beseeching eyes to his mom. “Can we, Mom?”
She tries to pull off an irritated look, but she can’t hide the twitch of her lips. “Fine. A small bowl for each.”
They run, hellbent on getting to the kitchen. We laugh and shake our heads as we follow them down the hallway. We find them already sitting at the kitchen table, their legs swinging joyfully and their eyes filled with anticipation as they gaze at the freezer.
As I grab the carton of ice cream and two bowls and spoons from the cabinet, I can’t help but laugh. The minute the bowls are placed before them, they snatch up the spoons and shovel cold bits into their mouths.
“From the looks of them, you’d think they never get the stuff,” Ginger says dryly, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.
“You know getting ice cream from someone else’s house is so much better than what you get at home.” Ginger lets out a short laugh before she tips the mouth of the bottle to her lips. “Or that’s the logic for kids, at least.”
“Nope.” She recaps the water. “I’ve just got spoiled kids. I blame it all on Mason.”
