Read Online Covet by Tracey Garvis Graves - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tracey Garvis Graves
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said they’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“Do you have kids marching in the parade?” Daniel asks.
“Yes. Our sons are with the Cub Scouts, and my daughter is with her dance studio,” I say. “They were really excited.”
“How old are they?” he asks.
“Jordan is seven and Josh is nine. Elisa’s son, Travis, is ten.” Out of the corner of my eye I see the marchers approaching. I hear the sound of the band, including the loud crash of the cymbals and the distant roar created by a large number of cheering children. Elisa gives Daniel a quick wave and says, “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” he says.
“I better go,” I say.
“It was nice to meet you, Claire.”
“It was nice to meet you, too. Thanks for checking on the sign.”
“Sure,” he says. “Have a good day.”
Elisa and I make our way back to our chairs. A few minutes later, Chris and Skip and the kids walk up to us and soon three enthusiastic voices are telling me about the parade, and I switch gears and give Josh, Jordan, and Travis my full attention. They want to go to the carnival now; it’s all they can talk about. We tell them to be patient and that we’ll head over in a minute. Chris gathers up my chair and the one I brought for him and we prepare to relocate. I grab the blanket and a small cooler that contains beer, water, and pop.
“Let me carry that,” he says, taking the cooler from me.
“How did the kids do?” I ask.
“They got tired near the end, but they had a great time.”
“Good.”
He studies me for a second. “You’re dressed up,” he says.
I glance down at my outfit and notice that one of the kids has already slimed me with a smear of something sticky and blue. I rub at it with my finger, which only makes it worse. “A little bit,” I say.
Chris loves skirts. When we were first dating I wore them all the time, especially after he told me how good he thought I looked in them. “You look nice,” he says, smiling at me.
“Thanks,” I say, and smile back at him. I can’t remember the last time he paid me a compliment. He sets off toward the park, hurrying to catch up with the kids, who are trying to sprint ahead, and I follow him.
We buy wristbands and the kids stand in line for each ride, despite my observation that they all look a bit rickety. Sandwiched between Josh and Travis, Jordan waves frantically at me as the Ferris wheel begins to move, transporting them high in the sky. I smile at the joy on her face. When the ride ends we follow them as they rush to the next one. After they’ve ridden everything at least once, Jordan gets her face painted like a tiger while Josh and Travis eat corndogs and drink fresh-squeezed lemonade. When Jordan is done I buy her a cone of pink cotton candy and laugh when some of it sticks to her whiskers. “Don’t wipe it off,” she says, worried that I will smudge the paint. The kids jump in the biggest bounce house I’ve ever seen and, miraculously, no one throws up. Shortly before 9:00 P.M . we choose a grassy spot and settle into our chairs, the four adults sitting side by side and the kids on the blanket in front of us to watch the display. The crowd cheers when the first round of fireworks explodes in the night sky.
Daniel is out there somewhere, I imagine. Leaning against his patrol car, watching the fireworks.
Keeping everyone safe.
When we return home I hustle the kids off to bed. They’re hot and dirty, and need showers, but they’re so tired I decide the world won’t stop turning if we wait until morning. Besides, there’s no way Jordan will part with the tiger makeup just yet. Despite the late hour, Chris sits down on the couch and powers up his laptop. “You’re going to work?” I ask.
He looks up at me. “I need to get a head start on these reports.” His desire to prove himself to his new boss is all-encompassing, and I know he’s eager to prove his worth, to make himself indispensable to the company. I’ve had years to adapt
“Do you have kids marching in the parade?” Daniel asks.
“Yes. Our sons are with the Cub Scouts, and my daughter is with her dance studio,” I say. “They were really excited.”
“How old are they?” he asks.
“Jordan is seven and Josh is nine. Elisa’s son, Travis, is ten.” Out of the corner of my eye I see the marchers approaching. I hear the sound of the band, including the loud crash of the cymbals and the distant roar created by a large number of cheering children. Elisa gives Daniel a quick wave and says, “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too,” he says.
“I better go,” I say.
“It was nice to meet you, Claire.”
“It was nice to meet you, too. Thanks for checking on the sign.”
“Sure,” he says. “Have a good day.”
Elisa and I make our way back to our chairs. A few minutes later, Chris and Skip and the kids walk up to us and soon three enthusiastic voices are telling me about the parade, and I switch gears and give Josh, Jordan, and Travis my full attention. They want to go to the carnival now; it’s all they can talk about. We tell them to be patient and that we’ll head over in a minute. Chris gathers up my chair and the one I brought for him and we prepare to relocate. I grab the blanket and a small cooler that contains beer, water, and pop.
“Let me carry that,” he says, taking the cooler from me.
“How did the kids do?” I ask.
“They got tired near the end, but they had a great time.”
“Good.”
He studies me for a second. “You’re dressed up,” he says.
I glance down at my outfit and notice that one of the kids has already slimed me with a smear of something sticky and blue. I rub at it with my finger, which only makes it worse. “A little bit,” I say.
Chris loves skirts. When we were first dating I wore them all the time, especially after he told me how good he thought I looked in them. “You look nice,” he says, smiling at me.
“Thanks,” I say, and smile back at him. I can’t remember the last time he paid me a compliment. He sets off toward the park, hurrying to catch up with the kids, who are trying to sprint ahead, and I follow him.
We buy wristbands and the kids stand in line for each ride, despite my observation that they all look a bit rickety. Sandwiched between Josh and Travis, Jordan waves frantically at me as the Ferris wheel begins to move, transporting them high in the sky. I smile at the joy on her face. When the ride ends we follow them as they rush to the next one. After they’ve ridden everything at least once, Jordan gets her face painted like a tiger while Josh and Travis eat corndogs and drink fresh-squeezed lemonade. When Jordan is done I buy her a cone of pink cotton candy and laugh when some of it sticks to her whiskers. “Don’t wipe it off,” she says, worried that I will smudge the paint. The kids jump in the biggest bounce house I’ve ever seen and, miraculously, no one throws up. Shortly before 9:00 P.M . we choose a grassy spot and settle into our chairs, the four adults sitting side by side and the kids on the blanket in front of us to watch the display. The crowd cheers when the first round of fireworks explodes in the night sky.
Daniel is out there somewhere, I imagine. Leaning against his patrol car, watching the fireworks.
Keeping everyone safe.
When we return home I hustle the kids off to bed. They’re hot and dirty, and need showers, but they’re so tired I decide the world won’t stop turning if we wait until morning. Besides, there’s no way Jordan will part with the tiger makeup just yet. Despite the late hour, Chris sits down on the couch and powers up his laptop. “You’re going to work?” I ask.
He looks up at me. “I need to get a head start on these reports.” His desire to prove himself to his new boss is all-encompassing, and I know he’s eager to prove his worth, to make himself indispensable to the company. I’ve had years to adapt
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