Page 35 of Pucking With My Head

I smiled. “With all the sour cream.”

“Perfect! Daddy Jensen never puts enough sour cream on them.”

“Well, I promise I’ll addloads,” I assured her.

Throwing the car into drive, we headed out of the parking lot and back to the house. She was clearly back to normal after her short illness, so we could have a nice night filled with food and animated movies.

My phone pinged as I was browning the taco meat. Joey was at the kitchen table, doing her homework, occasionally shouting a question at me as I cooked. Checking my phone, I groaned when I saw the message.

Pa:

Hey, you coming home next week?

I sighed. It felt like I hadn’t been back in California that long before they were begging me to come home. They would want me home for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and any random reason.

Naturally, they always expected me to pay for the plane ticket.

Bethany:

I can’t. I’m working.

Pa:

Don’t you usually move your shifts around?

I grimaced. In the past, I had made sure my schedule allowed me to spend time with my family, but given the nature of my work with Pack Noble, I couldn’t exactly take a week off without notice.

Not that I wanted to take a week off. As much as I loved my family, they were exhausting, and I didn’t feel the need to see them again so soon. I was still recovering from the last visit. I could only handle them in small doses.

Bethany:

I changed jobs. I needed to find something that paid a bit more so I could afford tuition. Unfortunately, that means I can’t get time off as easily.

Was I making a subtle jab to my father that he refused to pay for my tuition and this was the consequence? Maybe.

Pa:

What are you doing?

Bethany:

Some nannying work.

Pa:

Oh, okay, that sounds nice.

I snorted. Of course, my father would approve of anything that meant I was acting like a traditional omega. In his mind, childcare was women’s work, so I was doing the exact right thing.

Maybe he thought I was getting practice for when I had a child of my own.

Pa:

I’m sad you’re not coming home. I can’t wait until your degree is done.

Dad:

Counting down the days.

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