Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
The truth was, my dad and Carson couldn’t have been any closer. My dad loved both his sons-in-law, but he and Carson had a special bond. Maybe it was because Carson had never had a dad of his own and my dad got the “man’s man” he always wanted in a son, maybe he just saw how well Carson loved us, but whatever it was, they loved and respected each other. It reminded me that I had never been meant to be everything for my father, and that that had been a losing battle. But in following my heart, I’d ended up bringing another person into my family’s life who helped fill the hole my brother had left. Funny how fate worked that way. It warmed my heart and had me constantly fighting back tears when I watched them together.
We had invited my mom to come for the weekend too, but she had declined, even when my sisters and I suggested renting two cabins. I wished we were closer, especially now that I had a daughter of my own, but I couldn’t do all the work in our relationship. Maybe someday she’d realize that she had responded to loss by creating more loss, and she’d seek to repair it. I hoped that would be the case, but I thought more likely that too much time had already passed. It was one of my biggest heartbreaks, but I vowed every day that it was going to inspire me to pull people closer, not push them away.
Carson had written his own mother a letter and sent her a picture of our daughter, Ella, when she was born—an olive branch that he extended to the woman who had given him life but simply hadn’t been capable of giving him much more than that when he was a boy.
She had written him back and they were corresponding with letters and pictures. He still seemed cautious, but it was a start.
I smiled up at my husband, and then I turned my eyes to our baby and kissed her on her blond head. “Hey, little miss,” I said. “How come you’re not sleeping?”
“We’re working on it,” Carson said. Then he leaned in and whispered, “I was telling her this really good story about a girl I fell in love with once upon a time between the twenty-first and twenty-second floor.”
“Ah,” I said, looking at our daughter, “no wonder you wanted to stay up for that one. That’s a really great story. Some angst, some heartbreak, some really unexpected twists, but the most wonderful HEA.” I touched her nose with my index finger gently and she gave me a gummy smile, her hazel eyes lighting up at the attention, that small dimple that I loved so much popping out to the left of her lower lip. Carson smiled too, showing that twin dimple. Double whammy.
“It really is a great story,” he agreed.
“I hope it was the PG version, however,” I said.
He chuckled softly, his eyes warm.
“Hey, Sis, are you helping in here or what?” Julia called from the kitchen. She and Evan were on mashed potato duty and as I listened to the bangs and soft swears coming from the kitchen, I stifled a laugh. “Sounds like it’s getting serious in there. I better go. Sleep well, baby girl,” I said, kissing her again and smiling at Carson as he turned to take her back to the room where we had a portable crib set up.
As I walked toward the kitchen, I turned my head to watch them move away. My husband and our daughter. There are many soul-stirring sights in this world, but not many as profound as watching the beautiful man you love holding the baby you created together. No, not many.
_________
Carson
I held my baby daughter in my arms, rocking her in the big, upholstered rocking chair in the guest room, loving her so intensely that it felt like a tangible thing. I put my nose to her head and breathed in the sweet smell of her. I would do anything to protect her, to keep her safe, to make sure she always felt loved.
I had made it my life’s work to rescue women from suffering, and most of the time, I felt steady and competent in the part I played in that endeavor. But when it came to the lifelong job of protecting the one small girl in my arms, I felt a tremble of fear inside. I supposed that was as it should be.
As Ella snuggled into me, and her eyes started to flutter closed, I let my mind wander to the first little girl who had set a fire alight in my gut that burned for justice. Ara. Once upon a time, someone had held her in their arms like this. Once upon a time, someone had held each little girl just like this. And if they didn’t, they should have. I closed my eyes, rocking, rocking, my daughter exhaling her sweet baby breath, her tiny, chubby hand fisting my T-shirt.