Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
My phone lights up on the covers beside my hip. “Hi,” I answer Jameson’s call on the first ring, trying to sound chipper. Seriously, I’m a nemesis to myself. This pity party needs to see its way out the door, or I’m going to drown myself. Not really, but it sounds good. I’m sitting in bed, in my usual position. A stack of pillows propping me up, back to the headboard, knees lifted as a makeshift table. My sketchbook propped up as I doodle on the last few remaining pages. Since I’ve been back in Lane County, this has been my downtime every time I crawl into bed. I keep my sketchpad and pencils in my bag in case there’s a moment I need to occupy myself when I’m out and about. This pad is almost full, so I’ll need to hit up the store soon for a new one.
“Hey, babe.” Jameson’s voice on the other end of the call is soothing, yet I can hear the rasp in his tone giving away that he’s tired.
“Rough day?” I ask. Shaun still isn’t home, and if Jameson is only now calling this late, it means Josephine is in bed. My brother probably stopped at a bar to have a drink or is meeting someone. I really need to get my shit together and find my own place. He swears up and down I’m not cramping his bachelor ways. I know the truth, though. I am. Shaun doesn’t bring any of his dates or one-night stand here. There’s no waking up to a strange woman in his kitchen, and while I appreciate it more than he’ll ever know, I also feel bad that he’s rearranged his whole life for his younger sister.
“Too fucking rough. I got to Mom’s as Josephine was getting ready to eat dinner, so we all ate together. By the time we got home, she was tired, and I was tired. I lost my cool, and she had a meltdown.” He takes a deep breath. I can imagine him running his fingers through his hair for the umpteenth time today. “It was a shit show. We both needed a hug, and I had to apologize for the second time today. I’m going to talk to Mom, and if you can handle three or four days a week watching Josephine at my place, it might be better.”
I finish drawing a leaf while he lets it all out. “Jameson, you’re doing a great job. I’m good to watch her as much as you need. It’s not like I’m super busy with photo shoots, but if I have one booked, I’m sure your mom can take her for an hour or so, then I’ll pick her back up. Josephine is probably trying to figure out her new routine.” I know his words can be harsh. I also know that when it comes to his little girl, he would never purposely make her cry.
“I’d appreciate it. I’m pretty sure it’s the waking up early, going to bed late, add in Emma being gone and her not asking many questions. I think it’s all too much.” I did notice Josephine hasn’t asked me about her mom, but I figured it’s because she talks to others.
“Well, I’m here to help in whatever way I can. Do you mind if I take Josephine to the store tomorrow? I need to get a new sketchpad, and she’s slowly outgrowing the puzzles you have at the house.” I’m trying not to have a huge opinion on certain areas with Josephine. I don’t want to step on toes and open my mouth when the advice isn’t wanted or warranted.
“Babe, you can take her anywhere except the fucking park. Jesus, I still have nightmares about what could have happened.” He pauses. “The playset for the house is coming next week. I need to see if I can rally the guys to come help me build it.” There’s the Jameson Evans I know when he drops that shield of his—overprotective, fierce, and loves his little girl with his whole heart.
“So, take her to the park. Got it,” I tease, trying to get him to laugh and decompress at the same time. He really is carrying a lot of weight on his shoulders. I’m sure he’s also dealing with more than he lets on about Emma. My brother told me there was nothing romantic or love involved. I’m not sure that matters when you have a child with someone. I think that’s the one saving grace with Richie; we didn’t have kids. Going into our marriage, I knew I wanted them, voiced my opinion on the matter. He even agreed. Then, a year into our relationship, Richie changed his mind, and there was no negotiating. In the long run, I was thankful, but at the time, it was one of those moments that crushed my soul.