Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“He’s lucky there’re all these kids in here as witnesses,” I mutter under my breath, but Norah hears me.
“I’ll be honest, Josie, I think it’s kind of sweet…” She pauses, and when she sees the glare I’m currently flashing at her, she lets out a sigh and raises both arms in the air. “Fine. I think it’s horrible. A man sending all these adorable kids into your shop and making them give you pretty flowers? Gah. What a total jerk.”
“Norah, I love you, but you don’t even know the half of it when it comes to me and Clay Harris.”
“And whose fault is that?” she retorts, rubbing a hand over her round, pregnant belly. “I think it’s time you spill the beans, Josie.” When I don’t respond, she adds, “Are you ever going to tell me what happened between the two of you? Don’t you trust me? I’m your sister, Josie. I love you. Let me be there for you.”
Instantly, my heart cracks in half. I do trust my sister. I really do. And when she first got to Red Bridge, so much had happened in her life. Between her ex showing up, and her relationship with Bennett, and our mother and Thomas trying to ruin Bennett’s life, and losing Summer, my job as her sister was to be there to support her.
Not load her down with all my traumatic baggage.
“I do trust you, Norah. I do,” I answer, and my words are true. “And maybe someday I’ll tell you, but that time isn’t right now.”
Norah is pregnant and due at the end of next month. The last thing I want to do to a pregnant woman is make her feel anything but happy. It’s what she deserves. It’s what my future niece deserves. Nothing but happy, positive, love-filled vibes and hope for the future.
Something Clay Harris and I will never have.
60
Josie
Friday, May 27th
I am officially Aunt Josie.
Norah sits on the bed, happily munching on a burger and fries Breezy grabbed for her from a burger joint up the street, and Bennett sits on the edge of her bed, smiling at my sister like she is his sun and moon and stars.
I cuddle Autumn Josie Bishop—yes, I cried when Norah told me her middle name—close to my chest, gently rocking her in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Her eyes are closed, and I take in every perfect inch of her tiny face. Long, dark eyelashes, so much hair, and the poutiest little mouth I’ve ever seen, my niece is a beauty. But I’m not the least bit surprised. Norah is gorgeous, and Bennett is crazy handsome. The two of them were bound to make beautiful babies.
Autumn was born at 10:15 this morning weighing seven pounds and twelve ounces. She has the bluest of eyes—like most newborns do—has a head full of dark hair, and didn’t hesitate to let the world know when she arrived. The girl screamed at the top of her lungs, and the instant the doctor put her on Norah’s chest, she stopped crying and stared up at my sister in a way only a baby looks at their mother.
Seeing my sister give birth will be one of the most beautiful moments of my life. Norah was so strong, and Bennett was so supportive, and once I knew that both mom and baby were safe and healthy, I stepped out of the delivery room to give them some time alone.
I also had to hide myself in one of the waiting room restrooms so I could sob my eyes out. My heart is so full, so happy for my sister and Bennett, so filled with joy to have this new little person to spoil and love, but I can’t deny that a cloud of bittersweet melancholy made my chest ache for reasons no one but I can understand.
It took me a long moment to collect myself, but eventually, I was able to walk out of the bathroom stall, freshen up my face, and head back into Norah’s delivery room to celebrate the birth of my niece.
“Congratulations, Mom and Dad!” a voice I know like the back of my hand bellows, and I look up to see a smiling Clay walking through the door. His hands are filled with balloons and a teddy bear and a pink gift bag.
I know that today is a big day, a very special day, and it makes complete sense that he’s here to meet his best friend’s daughter, but I swear, hardly a day goes by without me having to see him in some fashion.
I’m almost certain he’s doing it on purpose, but I refuse to acknowledge it. The last thing you can do with a guy like Clay is give him the time of day. He’s like a golden retriever just waiting for any attention you’re willing to offer him. And if you do give in and give him attention, it only makes him want more and more and more.