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)
“I know. But he isn’t. He’s cute and sweet and generous and charming. And he’s also fiercely protective. It’s like he has two sides.”
“Okay, so what’s the problem? He obviously has some feelings for you. You have some for him. You’re having a baby together. Why can’t you guys give this a real chance?”
“He doesn’t want that, Ari. And I’m not sure I do, either. This morning he was telling me that his contract is up next year. Chicago is one thing, but what if he’s signed to another team and it’s across the country?”
“I don’t know. You move?”
“Move away from my family and friends? And be alone half the time because he’s on the road?”
“Only during the season,” she pointed out.
“That’s a lot. And anyway, it hasn’t come up.” Too agitated to sit still, I abandoned my chair and started to pace. “No. I don’t want to move. I want to be here where people love me and I love them. I want to raise my son around his grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. Even the Lupos are here!”
“That’s true.”
“This is the path I chose,” I went on. “I knew it would not be easy. I was willing to go it alone, and I’m glad I don’t have to. I’m happy he’s supportive. But I have to keep my feelings in check.”
“How will you manage that?”
“A little distance,” I said. “No more staying with him. It’s too tempting. And I clearly cannot be trusted to follow the rules.”
She laughed. “Nope.”
“But you know what? It’s out of my system now.” I brushed my hands together this way and that. “And his too. We’re fine. We’re good. We even cuddled.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “You cuddled?”
“Yes.” I squirmed a little. “I slept in his bed last night.”
“I thought he didn’t like sharing a bed.”
“He made an exception for me.” Feeling the heat in my face, I turned away from her and went over to the stove to smell the soup. “What time is dinner?”
“Six.”
“Good. That gives me enough time to be back home by eight.”
“What’s at eight?”
“Hockey game. I promised Joe the baby and I would watch.” I could feel her eyes on me.
“Mabel,” she said gently. “Do you think it’s wise to watch every single one of his games like this? I mean, it’s really sweet of you to learn about his sport and root for his team, but is it good for you?”
I stared at the simmering contents of the pot. “It’s all we have of him right now,” I said. “And I’ll be fine.”
Late that night, I was reading in bed when I got a text from Joe.
Hey, thanks for the book.
You’re welcome. I bought it a while ago when you said you were nervous about being a dad.
I’m still nervous. I’ll read it. Then you can quiz me.
Haha, deal. You played a good game tonight.
Not good enough to win.
How’s the shoulder?
It’s okay. I’ve got therapy tomorrow. That should help.
Can you take some days off to rest it?
If it’s necessary, but I hope it won’t be. How’s our artichoke?
Fine. Almost a banana.
You’re up late.
I know. But I’m in bed already and I’m going to sleep now.
Good. Take care of yourself.
You too.
I set my phone on the charger and turned off my lamp. Lying there in the dark, I thought about Joe in his bedroom, taking off his clothes and slipping between the sheets we’d shared last night. Or maybe he’d changed them already?
I rolled onto my side and hugged a pillow close to me, the way he’d held me last night as I’d fallen asleep, his body warm and strong behind me, his hand on my belly.
I missed him.
And I wondered for a moment if what I’d said to Ari about being fine was a lie.
On the morning of my fundraiser, two dozen red roses were delivered to me at the historical society.
“Oh my!” exclaimed my assistant, a retired nurse named Nell Howard who served on the board and volunteered her time to help me a few days a week. “Look how beautiful! Who sent them?”
“I don’t know,” I said, hunting in the box for a card. Finding it tucked among the stems, I slipped the card from the envelope.
Knock ’em dead, Montana Swift. Wish I could be there.
Love, Joe
I smiled as my heart boomed inside my chest. Love, Joe! Had he specified it should say love? Or had the florist just added it? “They’re from a friend.”
“A friend sent you two dozen roses?” She leaned over and sniffed the scarlet blooms. “That’s a good friend.”
“He is a good friend.” I decided to be honest with Nell. Touching my stomach, I said, “He’s the baby’s father.”
“Ah.” Nell nodded and smiled, her expression free of judgment. “The hockey player?”
“Yes,” I said, surprised she knew. When I’d told the board about my pregnancy, I’d simply said I was having a baby and would need some time off next spring. They knew I wasn’t married but hadn’t asked me for any additional details, and after the next board meeting, they told me I could take up to three months maternity leave. “How did you know he was a hockey player?”