MEASURE OF A MAN (COLE CREEK #3) BY MOLLY MCLAIN – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Molly McLain
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.1 MB
- Price: Free
EARLY JUNE…
RACHEL
“Don’t forget to grab your cleats, Em. And Mase, Grandpa wanted you
to help him with the garden this weekend. Take some old clothes so
you don’t get your good stuff dirty.”
“Got ’em, Mom!” Emma calls from the pile of softball equipment she
dumped at the front door last night after practice.
“Grandpa always makes me work,” Mason grumbles as he slides off a
kitchen chair like a limp noodle. “Why can’t I just hang out with Dad?”
Because your dad’s priorities are all kinds of messed up these days,
kiddo.
“I’m sorry, baby. I know this is hard.” I ruffle his dark hair as he slinks
by.
He pulls away with a grimace. “Why won’t he just come home?” My
son’s dark eyes are filled with a mix of sadness and frustration. At just shy
of eleven years old, he understands far more than I wish he did, including
the reason his father and I are in the middle of a divorce.
I’ve asked myself that same question a hundred times since Craig
moved out. But four months into our separation, I’ve officially given up.
More than that, I no longer want him to come home.
I just haven’t figured out how to tell my kids that.
“That’s a question only your dad can answer, Mase.” I give him a sad
smile. Smiles don’t mend broken hearts, but it’s all I’ve got.
“Can you pick us up early on Sunday?” he asks over his shoulder, a
swoop of shaggy hair falling over hopeful eyes.
“That’s up to your dad,” I remind him. “But we can ask.”
“Okay.”
As he shuffles to his room, I let out the breath I’ve been holding and
shakily pull in another. Eventually, this will get easier. It has to. One of
these days, I’ll be able to talk to my kids about their dad and not feel like
I’m walking on eggshells. Right?
“Dad’s here!” Emma announces, her nose pressed against the window
beside the front door. “You’re gonna be at my game tomorrow, right,
Mom?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Emmy Lou.” I step up behind her and
ruffle her hair—hair the same dark brown as her brother’s and her father’s
—as my soon-to-be ex-husband hops out of his truck.
Fifteen years ago, the sight of his tall, bulky frame hurrying toward my
front door gave seventeen-year-old me butterflies.
Now, it gives me anxiety.
“Hey, Dad!” Our eight-year-old daughter steps out onto the porch and
launches herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. Having
come straight from work, his T-shirt is streaked with dirt and his jeans are
even dirtier.
“You remember I have a game tomorrow, right?”
“Hey, ladybug.” He tugs her ponytail as he props his sunglasses on top
of his Enders Excavating ball cap. “Of course I remembered.”
Mm-hmm. The crease in his brow says otherwise, but I won’t call him
out when Emma’s within earshot.
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