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 wanted to laugh too, but I couldn’t. I was picturing her standing over a crib and watching him sleep—alone. I was imagining her hearing him cry in the middle of the night and going to soothe him—alone. I was envisioning her rocking him, singing to him softly, holding him close—alone.
It was all wrong.
But I didn’t know how to make it right.
Should I ask her to move to Chicago? Live with me? That’s probably what my dad would do. But that was crazy! It felt like we knew each other really well, but we’d literally spent like three nights under the same roof, ever. And two of those were in separate beds! A lot of our closeness had developed over texts and phone conversations, which wasn’t the same as living together.
Like I’d said to my brother yesterday, maybe I was idealizing her. I’d thought Courtney was easygoing too, but as soon as we got more serious, she got clingy and demanding. She constantly accused me of being unfaithful. Mabel was nothing like Courtney, but the experience had put me on edge.
Maybe I should ask Mabel to move to Chicago, and I’d rent a separate place for her so she’d have her own space? That way we could get to know each other better with less pressure. Like Paul said, we could date.
But she’d still be alone a lot of the time, especially when I was on the road, and she’d already told me she didn’t want to move—she wanted to be up here surrounded by family and friends. She liked her job. She loved her small town. Cherry Tree Harbor was home to her.
And what if Chicago didn’t renew my contract? I was having a decent season, yes, but it was still early. And I wasn’t getting any younger. They might sacrifice an aging stalwart with a torn rotator cuff for a healthy, hotshot rookie who had the potential to be a superstar for years to come. I’d seen it happen. And my agent had said I wouldn’t hear anything until at least February.
Maybe I should just wait. Maybe the holidays were messing with me, making me think about things like future Christmases and watching kids open their gifts and making a toast to family like my dad had done. Maybe my priorities were fine the way they always had been, and once I got back to Chicago tomorrow, I’d realize it.
Tonight, I’d sleep on her couch and keep my hands to myself.
Probably.
When we arrived at her house, I told Mabel to wait in the passenger seat and I’d come around to get her. “It’s snowing again, and I don’t want you to slip. I’ll bring the bags in once you’re inside.”
She sighed heavily but indulged me, and I took her arm, guiding her to the front door. After she unlocked the door, I went back for my luggage, and then for the gift bag my parents had given her.
“Where do you want this?” I asked, stomping the snow off my feet.
“You can just set it down. I’ll take it into my bedroom.”
I left the bag on the hallway floor and removed my shoes while Mabel went into the living room and switched on the Christmas tree lights. “Want to open your present?” she called.
“Sure. You can open yours too.”
I shrugged out of my coat, hung it in the closet, and opened the large suitcase I’d brought to bring gifts home. Mabel’s presents were the only two packages left in there. I pulled out the boxes, then joined her in the living room.
She was sitting on the couch with a gift-wrapped box on her lap, and her jaw fell open when she saw the two presents stacked in my arms. “Joe! What did you do?”
“It’s Christmas.” I sat down next to her, placing the gifts on the coffee table in front of us. “And only one of them is for you. One is for the baby.”
Shaking her head, she handed me the box on her lap. “You start. I have no idea if you’ll like this or not. Now I’m scared you won’t.”
“Stop. I’m sure I’ll like it.” I slipped the ribbon and bow from the gift and tore off the paper. Beneath it was a shirt box, and when I lifted the lid I discovered a gray shirt with some kind of giant pocket on the chest. I held it up by the shoulders in front of me.
“It’s a kangaroo shirt for dads,” she said. “The pouch is for the baby.”
“It is?” I’d never seen anything like this.
“Yes. It’s so you can carry him close to you without a sling or anything. My brothers said this brand is the best. But you don’t have to use it if you—”
“No, I love it,” I told her. “I just had no idea this was a thing, wearing your baby in a shirt.”