Sonny is a little angel boy—except I’ve learned he has a rascally streak like his father. But he’s teaching me Norwegian and the joys of watching him grow. Truly, it’s a blessing to be on this adventure with my family.
Speaking of...the blue painting is significant. Wink, wink. Grey doesn’t know it yet, but we’re adding to our family and I can’t wait for him to find out on Christmas. After Sonny finishes his painting, I’m pasting the first sonogram to the front and framing it. Yep, little boy number two is due next spring.
And let me tell ya, the cookie dough cravings have been off the charts.
Well, that’s all for now. I can say that the Viking rode in and valiantly saved me...and I’m pretty sure I helped him too.
Love,
Everly
P.S. My thankful three:
For my courage and health
The Viking and his kisses (and about a millionty other things)
Sonny and our family
Looking for more from the Bruisers? Read the first chapter from Rylen and Rachel’s Christmas romance:
Chapter 1:Rachel
I don’t wantto bethat girl, but in about another thirty seconds, I’m totally going to be that girl.
Typically, I’m very rational, confident, patient, and friendly enough. Some people say I have a certain resting face that’s intimidating, but usually, I’m deep in thought. But I’m notthat girl, not the mean one, the snobby one, or the selfish one.
I’m not shy. I prefer to think of myself as thoughtful, some might say serious.
However, on days when I wake up with a smile, the captain on my boat will say something like,Daily forecast: Really Rachel. As in today is going to be a good day.
But today is not that day.
Or rather, this evening is not. I’m seated at a long dining room table with Tobias Flick to my right. Across from me, his older sister, Ursula, with purple hair and a face tattoo, scrolls her phone. She and her husband, the mouth breather with glassy eyes, appear to only be here for the free dinner. She chews with her mouth open and stares daggers at me like I’m not good enough for her brother. Or she might remember me from high school. I’m trying not to talk to her in case she gets it in her mind to shank me if I excuse myself to use the ladies’ room. At Arapahoe High School, rumors abounded that she stabbed Mrs. Caruso in the hand with a box cutter because she wouldn’t allow Ursula to keep her pet rat in the classroom.
Mr. Flick vacuums up his liver and onions like he’s trying to scrub clean a crime scene before the realtor shows up to takephotos for a new listing, obviously, so no one thinks it’s being haunted by the victim.
Mrs. Flick is the original Queen Bee on the social scene, though these days, she’s more likely to show up at the lip injection clinic than be the popular girl section in the lunch room. I’m not entirely sure, but I wouldn’t doubt that Tobias gets manjections too.
This all begs the question. What am I doing here?
It’s a weird story.
Anyway, as Tobias elbows me and nudges his head toward his parents, I make a quick calculation of my current options.
