Cash Delgado Shakes Things Up by Tehlor Kay Mejia EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Tehlor Kay Mejia
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.1 MB
- Price: Free
THE THING NO one tells you about being a single parent is that you will be
running late for the rest of your life.
No matter how early you set the alarm, how generously you appoint
transition time, or how much you prepare the night before, you will still
find yourself standing in the entryway of your house at 8:05 yelling Are
your socks on yet? as you anxiously watch the seconds go by.
I know, because I’m here now, yelling those exact words for the fourth
time today and at least the thirtieth time this week. My lifetime count is
probably in the thousands.
“I can’t find matchies!”
“It doesn’t matter,” I call, trying not to let the frustration show.
“Matching socks are boring, anyway.”
This appears to be today’s golden ticket, because my daughter, Parker,
bounces down the stairs seconds later, beaming from behind her no-break
soft plastic glasses.
“Look!” she says, gesturing down. One of her feet appears to be getting
eaten by an ankle-length frog, and the other hugged by a smiling, rosycheeked sloth.
“Perfect,” I pronounce, forgetting the ticking clock for a moment as I
look down at her.
The other thing they don’t tell you about being a single parent is that
you’ll love your quirky, nearsighted, perfectly herself oddball child so much
it will make every stressful countdown worth it. And then some.
Despite the ticking clock, I take out my phone and snap a picture. My
best friend Inez’s contact is at the top of my suggested list, of course. I
don’t trust myself to remember the nuance of the outfit when I see her later,
so I send it with the caption: Fashion Icon.
“I thought we were late,” Parker says pointedly.
“We are,” I say, stowing my phone with a chuckle. “I wanted to show
Auntie Inez your style, but now we’ll probably be last in the drop-off line
again.”
“I like being last,” Parker says, unruffled as she pulls hot pink rain boots
on over her mismatched socks. “I get to make an entrance.”
She flounces out to the car before I can respond, tutu bouncing over her
jeans, green dinosaur sweatshirt completing the ensemble.
Oh, to have the confidence of a six-year-old, I think as I grab the keys
and follow.
We are indeed last in the drop-off line. The doors to Ridley Falls
Elementary are so close, and yet so far away. This morning the school is
wreathed in mist with the town’s trademark ponderosas looming over it.
In the backseat of the Jeep, Parker belts along to the radio. When your
car was made before the new millennium there’s no aux cord, and there’s
something pop-rocky playing that I recognize from working a thousand
karaoke nights.
It makes my brain hurt. I pray for the serenity not to lean on the horn at
the PTA moms lingering at the front of the line.
“If you took a chance! If you let me in!”
“How do you know this song?” I ask, glancing at Parker in the rearview
mirror. She’s using one of her rain boots as a microphone.
She gives me a withering look. “Everyone knows this song. The Walking
Wild? Madison’s mom knows them.”
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