Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, surprising me. I reach for it just as Baylor reaches for his. When I look at the text from Christine, it reads: I’m having my baby.
“Oh my God—”
“My sister’s gone into labor.” His eyes fasten to mine. “Detour to the hospital?”
CHAPTER 34
Baylor
I missed my niece’s birth. I’m not missing this one.
Niece or nephew, I don’t care. Healthy and safe are all that matters. Same for my sister. I’m glad I can be here. When we walk in, my dad stands at the edge of the waiting room holding hands with Daisy while Beckett sits nearby playing on his gaming device.
Lauralee and I held hands until we came around the corner in sight of the entrance. We agreed now was not the time to break our news. We’d rather the family focus on Christine and the baby. “Hey, Dad, how are they?” I ask on approach.
“Last I heard, good heart rates for both, and she was going to start pushing.” He checks his watch. “That was about fifteen minutes ago.”
Daisy raises her hands in the air. “Bay Bay.”
I lift her, settling her on my side, before I kiss her chubby little cheek. “How are you, Daisy girl?”
She giggles and starts blowing raspberries in the air.
I say, “Hey, Beck, you doing okay?”
“Bored,” he replies, not looking up from his game.
My dad says, “If it gets too late, I’ll take them home and get them to bed.”
Lauralee tucks strands of hair behind her ear, and says, “I can do that, so the family can be together.” She brushes against my side as she moves closer to huddle in. “I’ve sat with them many times. I know their bedtime routine.”
“Thanks. I’d like to be here when my next grandkid is born. Tagger’s folks are on their way.” My dad adds, “I wish Griffin could be here. It’d be nice to have the family together again.”
Lauralee takes Daisy from me, anchoring our niece on her hip and tickling her tummy. I move closer to my dad, lowering my voice to ask, “Have you heard from him lately?”
“A month or so ago. He’s hard to pinpoint on a map, but said he’d be back in Texas soon to visit.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I think about my brother and what drove him away. Same as me, I suppose. Feeling like Peachtree Pass wasn’t home once my mom passed. That took me years and talking to my sister to get over. Now, I’m ready to return for good. My gaze tracks over to my wife, who’s found a book to read to Daisy.
She’s a natural caregiver. Lord knows she takes care of me and keeps me on my toes. I’m pretty sure she would say I do that last part to her as well. We still have plenty to talk about and more details to work through, but I can’t wait to start life with her.
I say, “If we can get him to stay longer than a few hours, we might be able to talk some sense into him.”
“He once told me he has a traveler’s soul.” My dad eyes me. “I’m not sure what that means. Sounds spiritual, and you know I’ve lost my way with the new paths the younger folks follow these days.”
I chuckle. “I don’t think it’s that deep, Dad.” I look down the hall when I hear a commotion. Nurses are whispering, so I’m glad to see smiles on their faces, rather than the opposite. When I turn back, I say, “Griff just likes to travel, and since he no longer plays baseball, he’s free to do what he wants. He’s choosing to enjoy life. Nothing wrong with that when you have the money to support it. I’ll text him tomorrow to let him know he has a new niece or nephew and see what he says.”
“See if you can get an answer about coming home for Christmas. He told me he can’t commit this far out. That was in June, around the time of the festival, when I asked.” My dad worries about my brother more than he should have to. We all do to some extent. None of us hear from him as much as we’d like, but he’s a grown man who can make his own choices.
“I’ll try my best. I think this will take a while. Let’s grab a seat.”
He grips my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. Thomas Greene is an old cowboy who still hides most of his emotions, but every so often, he lets you know how he feels in quieter ways. I glance over and spot a proud dad grin on his face. More reserved, but that’s just him.
His hand falls back to his side, and his gaze travels back to a TV we can’t hear from where we’re standing. “You got your smarts from your mama, Baylor. All you kids did. She’d be proud of how well you’ve done, son.”