We didn’t even eat dinner together; Mrs. Donnelly left it all out in the kitchen for people to come through and fix plates, but Mr. Donnelly and Grady haven’t returned, either, not that I’ve seen. Maybe they’re avoiding the excess of estrogen.I’m sitting on the porch, bundled up in coats and hats and blankets, reading Wuthering Heights in the last rays of Christmas Day sunshine. It glints off the melting snow, little drops forming the soundtrack of my day as they fall off the gutters and splash into puddles. The wind has started to pick up, another storm brewing on the horizon, when Brennan traipses up and sits next to me on the padded porch swing.He’s soaked through and vibrating with tension, his fingers twisting together, knee jiggling, My boyfriend is normally as put together as I am, but right now everything about him is askew—hair out of place, dirt smudged on his pants and face—and my heart goes out to him.I cover his big hand with mine and he grabs onto it for dear life.“I was going to be a father.”
What do You think about Mistletoe And Mr. Right (2014)?
