Page 109 of Stolen Voices
A pang hits me in the chest, squeezing tight, making me miss my mom even more.
“That was so good.” Rylann turns to me and smiles. “Thank you. You’re great with him.”
“He’s the great one. Quick learner.”
She nods and motions for me to follow her to the kitchen. “He is. And he has the uncanny ability to be good at everything he does, just like his father.”
“Eli mentioned something about Rhys really taking to baseball.” Eli spoke so highly of Rhys; I feel like I know the little guy so well already.
“He has, just like the rest of the men in this family. I must say I like it a lot better than football, but I wish Rhys stuck with soccer.”
Eli played baseball?I tuck the tidbit of information away like I’m hoarding treasure.
Rylann heads to the refrigerator and pauses. “Do you mind?”
“Please. Take whatever you need.” I take a seat at the island, and watch as she grabs two bottles of water and hands me one. “Thank you.” I twist the top off and take a sip of water as Rhys fiddles with the guitar.
His tension on the strings increases, making the tune sound better with each practiced strum.
“So, how much longer do you have in your pregnancy?” I ask, curious about the beautiful woman in front of me but also not wanting to assume she’s about ready to pop.
“Another week, give or take. I’m counting down the days until he arrives.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She sighs, lying her hands on her stomach, a peaceful smile pulling up her lips. Rylann looks radiant, reminding me of my mom again, and I can’t help the pang of sadness that hits me.
“Are you excited?” I probe, forcing my conflicting feelings aside.
“Not as excited as my husband, but yes. This little man is baby number three.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of kids,” I mumble before I can stop the words. I slap a hand over my mouth as Rylann laughs.
“Not according to Jace,” she divulges.
“He wants more?” I swear I can feel my eyes bug out of my head at her answer.
“He’d have me give him a baseball team worth of kids if he could.”
“Holy shit, that’s crazy,” I shout.
“Callie, that’s a dollar in the swear jar,” Rhys bellows from his spot on the couch.
Rylann rolls her eyes. “Ignore him.”
I’m into Rhys’s cute game and go along with him. “Can I pay you later? I don’t have cash on me.”
“Sure. But it will cost you a dollar late fee,” he lobs back like he’s negotiated terms with multinational corporations for fun and won.
“He’s strict,” I laugh.
“He’s a pain is what he is,” she teases and looks in her son’s direction, waiting for his response, which comes through as expected.
“Heard that.”
“You were supposed to,” Rylann sings.
Rhys chuckles to himself as he continues strumming the guitar.
