Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I listened to every word Avery said to me that night. Every syllable of her story that she hadn’t shared with me before. I took her in—all of her, all her soul—wanting nothing more than to know every piece that made her into the woman she’d become.
“I avoided Willow for a long time,” she confessed. “I hated her for a while because I thought she was why I no longer had a mother. I blamed her for stealing that from me and for not having a mom to hug each night. For not having a mama to say prayers over me each night before I went to sleep. That was until Daddy came to me one night and asked if I wanted to hold Willow. I told him no. He asked me why, and I told him the truth. I told him that I hated her and wanted nothing to do with her. I saw how that broke his heart.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He said Willow was a gift from Mama. That in her eyes, I could see my mother forever. That Willow’s laughs were Mama’s giggles. That her cries were Mama’s tears. He then told me how blessed I was to have known Mama the longest out of all of us. Before Mama was theirs, she was mine alone. Then he told me how special that made me. Because Mama’s imprint was on Willow, yes, but I was covered in Mama’s memories. And he told me how special it would be if I shared that with Willow. If the mama in me could kiss the mama within her. So that very night, when Willow woke up crying, I went to her nursery and held her close to me. I fed her as Daddy stood back and watched me. I kissed her forehead and said the prayers that Mama used to pray over me, over her. From that moment on, Willow was the living image of my mother’s love. I couldn’t believe I avoided her for as long as I did because she was, and still is, something so special. I couldn’t imagine life without her. A world without Willow is like a world without air.”
I grinned, feeling grateful that she shared so much of her story that evening, even though it was probably hard for her to do.
“Sorry,” she blurted out, wiping her tears. “I don’t know why I just told you all that. It kind of poured out. I never pour out my heart like that. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not complaining. Thank you for sharing. I know that’s not the easiest for you.”
“You made it easy tonight.” She smiled gently. “Thank you for listening. I should get some sleep, though. I’m exhausted. I would offer to let you sleep in here, but I don’t want Cameron getting the wrong idea.”
“Understandable.” I kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
I got off the bed and started for the door.
“Nathan?” she called.
“Yeah?”
“Do you think Cameron will be okay? Do you think he can get through this?”
“I do. He’s strong. And on the days he can’t be, we’ll make sure to be there in his corner. We’re better together.”
Her smile wasn’t heartbreaking anymore. There was a flash of hope resting against her lips this time. “Okay. Good.”
“And Avery?”
“Yes?”
“If you ever need to pour out your heart again, please pour it onto me.”
37
AVERY
Ilearned a few things about my third Sunday morning when it came to staying at Honey Farms. The first being get up early or be awakened by a loud ass rooster screaming outside your window.
“What the heck is going on?!” Cameron asked as he emerged from Nathan’s bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
I stood in the kitchen, pouring myself a cup of coffee. “Morning, slugger.” I held the cup out toward him. “You drink coffee?”
“I do today,” he mumbled, taking the mug from me. He picked up the creamer on the countertop and poured some into his coffee. “What’s with the rooster?”
“It’s Sunday Funday on the Farm,” I explained. “Trust me, it’s not as annoying as it sounds. The Pierce family all heads out early as heck to get a round of baseball in on their diamond before going to the garden to pick out vegetables and such for a big brunch. The winner gets to relax as the loser gets to cooking.”
Cameron blankly stared at me before taking a sip of his coffee. “They do this every Sunday?”
“Every third.”
“And the rooster only crows on Sunday mornings at the ass crack of the morning?” he asked.
“Oh, that’s not a rooster,” I started. The back door opened, and in came Nathan, wearing his old baseball uniform. He tossed a ball up and down in his hand. “That’s Coach P.”
“Cock-a-doodle-doo!” Nathan shouted, walking over to Cameron. He patted him on the back with triple-shot of espresso type energy. “Are you ready for some baseball?”