Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
“You fell down,” the little girl said.
“I did, but I’m better now.” She glanced at me. “Joe, this is my brother Xander and my niece Serena.”
I stood up and moved toward them, holding out my hand. Xander shook it but eyed me a little more suspiciously than Austin had. All in all, her two big brothers were slightly menacing, but I kept my smile friendly. “Nice to meet you, Xander. I was in your bar last summer. Great place.”
“Thanks.” He looked back and forth from Mabel to me. “Everything okay with the baby?”
“Everything is fine,” Mabel assured him. “Actually,” she went on with a laugh, “other than this bump on my noggin, everything is the best it’s ever been.”
I stayed as long as I could, long enough to meet Mabel’s dad and his wife, Julia, who could not have been kinder or more welcoming. Long enough to see Ari again, who came later that afternoon with a chubby baby in one of those car seat carriers I’d have to learn about. Long enough to meet the doctor and hear for myself that Mabel was going to be perfectly fine, and there was nothing to worry about.
Finally, I couldn’t delay leaving any longer.
Leaning over, I gently kissed her forehead. Mabel’s eyes filled as I straightened up and pulled the blankets higher. “I’m sorry to get sad,” she said. “I know you have to go.”
“I hate leaving you.” My chest felt like it was ripping down the center.
“Soon we won’t have to say goodbye so much.”
“I hope not.” I squeezed her hand. “I love you. Everything is going to be okay.”
She smiled. “I remember you said that to me once before, when I thought my life was ending.”
I chuckled. “And I was right, wasn’t I?”
“You were right.”
“This is only the beginning, cupcake.” Leaning down once more, I kissed her lips. “It just gets better from here.”
TWENTY-SIX
mabel
EARLY MARCH
“What time is he going to call?” I asked for the tenth time.
“He said by eight tonight.” Joe indulged me by answering again anyway. He stopped rubbing my feet long enough to check his watch. “And it’s just before eight.”
We were on the couch, me stretched out with a book in my lap, Joe sitting with my feet in his. ESPN was on the television, but he wasn’t really watching. And truthfully, I wasn’t really reading.
His agent was calling tonight to let us know whether or not Chicago wanted to offer an extension on his contract. If they didn’t, Joe would become a free agent in July. Another team—anywhere—could make him an offer. And if he wanted to keep playing hockey, he’d have to take it. If I wanted to be with him, I’d have to go too.
And I did. I would.
I’d moved down here a few weeks ago, right after my baby shower, and I knew immediately it had been the right decision. Everyday life with Joe was amazing. He was sweet and generous—he’d cleared space for me in his walk-in closet, in his dresser, in his bathroom. He had the guest room painted and carpeted just the way I had done the baby’s room at my house (Ari with the assist there . . . she was suddenly Joe Lupo’s second biggest fan). He bought a rocking chair for the room so he could help get the baby to sleep and let me get some rest. And he bought a litter box, cat bed, cat food bowl, and even a cat carrier for Cleo. “I want to make sure she feels at home too,” he said.
I laughed and burst into tears all in one breath, of course.
Austin was bringing the crib down this weekend. I hadn’t sold my house yet—we figured it would be good to have a place to stay when we visited Cherry Tree Harbor with the baby, until we had our own permanent home.
The historical society was sad to lose me, but they understood my family mattered most. I said I would always be happy to help with anything they needed and to please let the new curator know she could reach out at any time. They threw me a little going-away party/baby shower on my last day.
My due date was just six weeks away now.
Every time Joe left for an away game, he was more nervous. But I’d found a doctor I really liked, and she had assured me everything was looking great with the pregnancy and there were no troubling signs. I’d had no more fainting spells, my blood pressure was normal, and the baby was now the size of a pineapple. I got tired early these days, so I was often in bed by the time Joe got home from a game. But he’d crawl in behind me and wrap his arms around my stomach, warm and protective. And every single night, without fail, he whispered that he loved me.