Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Henry began tugging on Abby’s shirt. “Shit. He’s hungry, huh?” She stood. “You think my line of fans would mind if I went in the back and fed him? Gonna find a private place to take him.”
After she left, I planted myself next to Miriam. “You be my helper if anyone comes to buy Mummy’s book, okay? You can take the money, and I’ll do the talking.”
“Okay, Daddy.” She smiled up at me, nearly melting my heart. Nothing like seeing your wife’s face transformed into the likeness of a cherub.
Felicity and Leo took off to browse while our sons played quietly in the corner.
Then a woman approached the table. She was already holding a copy of Abby’s book. Well, doesn’t this just figure?
“Hello. I was looking to meet Abby Benedictus.” She grinned. “I take it you’re not her?”
“I’m not. I’m her husband, Sigmund.”
The woman blushed. “Oh goodness. It’s so great to meet you. I’m sorry. I’m just a bit flustered.”
Her nerves caught me off guard. I introduced my daughter. “This is Miriam.”
“I know. Well, I figured from the book.” The woman smiled shyly. “Hello, Miriam.”
“Hello,” my daughter answered.
“My wife is in the back feeding our son. She should be out soon.”
“I’ll wait. I want to tell her how much this book meant to me.”
The woman waited patiently for about five minutes. I finally looked over to find Abby walking toward the table with Henry. “Here she is now.”
“Oh, hello.” Abby handed Henry to me and straightened the wrinkles in her skirt. She seemed nervous to meet this lady, which was quite adorable.
“You almost missed your first reader,” I said.
“You might be my first and last reader today, but you’ve made my day. Thank you for coming. It’s great to meet you,” Abby said. “And you are?”
“Connie.” The woman clutched a somewhat worn copy of the book to her chest. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to meet you. The pleasure is all mine. I’m the one who should be thanking you. You see, my husband and I were unable to have children due to my cancer treatments. We used a surrogate with a donor egg from my sister. I know it’s a bit of a different scenario than yours, but in the beginning, I struggled with the fact that my son wasn’t actually mine and whether that would somehow affect our bond. I found your book—or rather, I should say, it found me. I happened to see it sitting in one of those Little Free Library boxes in my neighborhood. I’m so happy I found it—because I’m certain it was meant for me. And I want to support you, so I’d like to purchase another copy here…to have you sign, of course.”
A look of pride crossed my wife’s face. “I appreciate that so much.”
Abby didn’t know it, but I was the one who’d placed her book in that Little Free Library. In fact, I’d ordered dozens of copies online without Abby knowing and had driven them to every Free Library box I could find around London, in all different neighborhoods. There was a website that listed some of the locations for those boxes, and I’d used that as my road map.
After the woman purchased a book and left, Abby turned to me. “At least I can say I have a biggest fan.”
“She’s not your biggest fan.” I nudged her. “I am.”
“You know, my favorite part of this book is the part I didn’t write,” she said.
“Ah, yes. Too bad it took me as long to put the foreword together as it took you to write the entire book.”
“It was worth the wait.” Abby kissed my cheek and held out her hand to Miriam. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s go pick out a book for you since you’ve been such a good girl.” She turned to me. “Just holler if anyone shows.”
Henry was now asleep in my arms, sucking on his binky.
Left alone at the table, I picked up one of the books and admired it.
One Bump by Abby Benedictus
I opened it to the dedication.
For Britney,
Rest easy. I’ve got them.
Feeling warm inside, I turned a couple of pages to the foreword I’d written, which I hadn’t read since I’d submitted it to Abby a year or so ago.
Dear Reader,
As I begin the process of writing this foreword, my wife is asleep in the chair across from me. She’s holding a cup of tea and somehow managed to conk out mid-sip. I keep looking at her, waiting for the tea to slip out of her hand, the porcelain cup to shatter on the floor. I’m fully prepared to clean it up, if need be. But it seems somehow, even in her sleep, Abby has things under control.
It’s no surprise that she wasn’t able to stay awake long enough to enjoy it. From the moment our son was born, she’s given every bit of herself to him. And when our daughter came sixteen months later, so began the juggling act. After long days with the children, she’s devoted any free time she had to this book. At the time that I’m writing this, she’s pregnant with our third child, a boy we’ll name Henry. We’ve decided three children will be it for us. This will be her third c-section, and her body needs a break. As you’ll find from reading this book, we almost lost her the first time. And that’s made every pregnancy since riskier than the last. The thought of ever losing her terrifies me.