Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 60530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“Is she okay?”
“It’s just a lot to take in.” If I know my mom, she’s working her way through her emotions where no one can see her. She’ll be here. She’ll love Bridget. But right now I bet she’s mourning the last three years of not knowing she had a granddaughter. I wish I could change that, but it’s in the past.
“Right, understandable,” Magnolia responds, but her voice is tight and her gaze is now nowhere on me.
“I figured it would be better to give her a heads-up rather than springing it on her?”
“Of course,” she answers but again, the easiness is gone. If she’s feeling a fraction of what I’m feeling …
“I think we should head home,” she says, holding her arms out to Bridget. “Might be nice to lay down for a nap, Bridgey, don’t you think?”
I’ll never get over the hint of a Southern drawl in her voice. It makes me feel warm and peaceful. And other things that are definitely not appropriate for a trip to the playground.
“No,” shouts Bridget, but she climbs down from the swing. Magnolia picks her up and the three of us head back to where we parked by the restaurant.
There’s an odd tension and I don’t want a damn thing to do with it, so I wrap my arm around Magnolia’s waist and plant a kiss on the crook of her neck. She lights up in an instant, a sweet simper matching the heat in her gaze. I want so badly to say the words I know would make all of this right. Three words I feel in the depths of who I am. She’s the first to speak, though, and the moment is lost.
“Thank you for lunch,” she says. Like it was a first date or something. Fuck. I swallow down my pride and smile back at her. How is it that she still makes me so damn nervous?
“I’d like to come by in a while,” I say, rushing out the words after she’s got Bridget all buckled in her seat. “Once you’re home and settled in.”
She lets out a breath with a smile. “I feel plenty settled in with you right now,” she admits.
I slip my arms around her shoulders and wrap her in a tight embrace. The words are right there, but they don’t come. I know it’s because I’m afraid the moment I say them, everything will slip away. There’s so much happening so quickly. I can’t ruin this. I can’t lose her with so much on the line.
Magnolia is only out of sight for a minute before the ache begins. I want to be next to her so much it hurts. My only saving grace that keeps me from second-guessing everything that happened today is that she texts me when she gets home and tells me to swing by whenever I want.
My text back is instant: Give me an hour. I just have to do one thing first.
Magnolia pulls open the door as soon as my feet hit the porch, like she was waiting for me, and I’m struck all over again by how gorgeous she is. The blue dress has been replaced with a pair of soft leggings and a cream-colored tunic. Her blond hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders. It’s Magnolia’s smile that brings it home. All the nerves melt away.
As long as she keeps smiling, it’ll be all right.
“Hi,” she greets me, those gorgeous eyes traveling down to the bouquet in my hand. It’s a riot of pink. Light pinks, dark pinks, with a splash of yellow tulips. I told the lady I wanted something that felt brand new. It seems she read my mind. “Those are so beautiful.”
I hand them over and Magnolia buries her face in them to inhale the scent. “And this is for Bridget. I take it she’s napping?” There’s a lack of a little face peeking around Magnolia’s legs and I don’t hear the constant chatter of a sweet little toddler.
My toddler. My daughter. Well … ours.
“Yeah, she’s been down for almost an hour.” Magnolia reaches for the gift bag, but I pull it back. “You’re not gonna let me see?” Her wide eyes and smile paired with her outraged tone are comical.
“It’s a surprise,” I tell her and she laughs, rolling her eyes and leading me into the house. Inside, I place the bag on the coffee table and note that it seems so calm and inviting. This is another tiny moment that somehow carries a lot of weight. Gratefulness creates pressure in my chest, and a sense of warmth too. “It’s funny how life can change so quick.” Voicing it out loud makes it seem even truer. “I want you to know I’m excited, though.” I swallow my nerves the second I get out the confession.