Page 121 of This Memory
“These little clips. I have them all attached to the curtain, you just need to slip the rod through them and get the curtains even on each side.”
“Need any help?” Declan asked as he made his way into the room.
Pointing to the other side of the room, I replied, “If you want to grab that step ladder and help.”
I climbed up the ladder, took the rod down, and slid the rings onto it. Declan grabbed the rod and we placed it back into the holders.
“Does it look even?” I asked Declan.
“What do you mean?”
“Like is your side spread out even like mine?”
Declan stared at me. “How in the hell would I know? I’m looking at it the same way you are.”
“The rings, are they spread out evenly, like mine are?”
He looked back at the curtain rod and adjusted some of the rings. It felt like it was taking forever.
“They don’t have to be exactly the same distance apart, Declan!”
He huffed. “There, I think that’s even. Can you say yours is this evenly spaced?”
After looking at his then mine, I made a few adjustments on mine then asked, “How is that, Bry?”
When Brystol didn’t answer, I looked over my shoulder. “Brystol?”
“Is that bacon I smell?”
Sighing, I got off the ladder. “Good Lord, what is she making now?”
Declan folded up the step stool. “How long were we messing with the curtains that she had time to get downstairs and make bacon?”
“Never underestimate a pregnant woman.”
When we both walked into the kitchen, we came to an abrupt stop. Declan grabbed onto my arm as I stared at Brystol while she wrapped bacon around a pickle.
“Is she…is she?” Declan whispered. He let out a gasp as she took a bite. Turning, he rushed out of the kitchen.
“Brystol, you just made Declan run from the kitchen with your choice of snacks. He’s probably throwing up in our half bath as we speak.”
She looked at me with an innocent expression. “It’s good!” she replied, holding out the pickle. “Want some?”
I held up my hands. “I think I’ll pass, babe.”
Shrugging, she said, “You don’t know what you are missing out on.”
“I think I’ll take the chance.”
Declan walked back into the kitchen.
“You okay, dude?” I asked.
He nodded. “I’ve seen some terrible things duringmy time in the Marines, but nothing has ever made me hurl like the sight of a pickle wrapped in bacon.”
“You know what I’m craving for lunch.”
Declan whimpered.
