Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 104448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“You don’t need a man,” she said as she held the door open to the kids’ resale shop she’d insisted on taking me to. Roundup was almost here, and I’d taken Lellie to town to find some sturdier shoes than the more fashionable ones Katie had seemed to prefer. After finding the right pair at Lake Sports, I’d stopped by the cafe for a muffin and some juice before we tackled the grocery store.
That’s when Jo had lit up and insisted on taking her “favorite girl” shopping.
“Correct,” I said, leading Lellie over the threshold by the hand. She was in an anti-stroller mood, so I’d decided not to fight it. “I’m glad you finally realize that and will stop pushing me at Foster.”
Jo waved her hand. “Oh, I still have hopes in that direction, don’t you worry. I’m just saying you don’t need a co-parent to commit to keeping Lellie. We’ll all help you.”
She led me over to a rack of clothes in Lellie’s size. “I’m thinking she needs a cowgirl getup.”
“She has more clothes than Zendaya.”
“Are any of them roundup-themed?” she asked with a sniff.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and inhaled. The industrial scent of laundry detergent and sanitized toys tickled my nostrils. “I’m not going to fight you on this as long as you help me get a few bath toys. Tully keeps giving her my measuring cups and spoons, which is not great when it comes time to make coffee in the morning.”
She eyed me. “Foster told me about him, too.”
“Tully?” My voice had a strange, squeaky tone, so I corrected it. “Tully?”
“Mm. Seems like there’s a story there.”
I ignored her prompt and instead led Lellie to the toy section, where her entire face lit up at the brightly colored plastic haven.
Jo followed me over, clutching a pleather outfit with fringe that I didn’t want to look too closely at. “She needs that octopus,” Jo said. “And the little table and chairs.”
“I don’t have room for a table and chairs,” I explained.
“You will at the new house. We should go ahead and get it. Store it in the barn.”
I tried to keep calm. “Jo, I already told you. I’m not keeping her. I’m hoping to find a good family and—”
“Pish. Don’t be ridiculous. I can see how you are with her, and Sheridan couldn’t stop talking about how excited she was that her little peanut will have a built-in friend right out of the gate.”
“She’s like ten minutes pregnant,” I muttered. “They’d be at least two years apart in age.”
“And when the house is ready, we’ll decorate a big-girl room all for her. Maybe giraffes and other safari animals. I saw a fantastic Pinterest board when I was looking for nursery ideas for Sheridan.”
I let her continue to babble about what a wonderful, albeit fictional, life my daughter would have here in Majestic. The conversation made my stomach hurt because it did sound wonderful. She made it seem like the perfect life for Lellie and me.
But she was leaving out the imperfect parts. The painful parts. The inevitable moment where I’d make a critically poor decision that would lead to disaster. I had a proven track record, and I was sick and fucking tired of people thinking they knew better than I did.
“Can we move on from this topic, please?” I finally asked. “Do you think we should get her a sun hat for when you bring her outside during roundup?”
I didn’t expect them out in the far pastures, but I knew Jo would want to bring Lellie outside to watch the horses being loaded into trailers near the barn.
Jo’s face lit up. “I’m on it. I saw one back by the dresses that would be just the thing.”
As she turned to make her way back toward the front of the store, I let out a breath and returned my attention to Lellie.
One of her dark curls was sticking out at a funny angle from the way she’d slept. Even though I’d tried to wet it down and fix it, it still stuck out and up. I didn’t know how to do hair without making Lellie scream bloody murder. There was probably some trick to it that Katie had learned from her own mother. But my mother wasn’t about to show up here and teach me how to raise a daughter.
I glanced back to see Jo chatting happily with a man near the checkout counter. She would teach me anything I needed to know about raising a daughter. I knew she would. But it wouldn’t be the same.
There’d been times since my brother’s death when I’d felt inside out with grief. More recently, it had faded into a duller pain but one that was still achingly persistent. It was at times like this that the dull pain turned sour. I missed things I’d never even had. Parenting advice from my mother was an unexpected one.