Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
“I went through a lot for my baby June,” Fiona gazed at the ocean. “I thought I would never be a mother. And I thought all of my loss and pain would inoculate me from the woes of being a first-time mother. I wouldn’t resent the lack of sleep, the radical change in my identity, my body, my everything. Because my baby was precious. But let me tell you, that’s all bullshit. She’s precious, but it was hard. I love my husband more than anything, but there were times I considered calling a lawyer. But that was sleep deprivation and postpartum depression.”
She stepped forward and squeezed my arm.
“I knew who you were the second you walked into the bakery. Not the fame shit, I knew you were a stone-cold bitch—in the best way—who had had her heart broken. Like recognizes like and all that. I get that you want to do it alone. Prove it to yourself. But you’re a resident of Jupiter, Maine, honey. We like you. Therefore, consider this the welcome committee barging our way into your life. We’re gonna be friends. Our babies are gonna be friends, our husbands are already basically boyfriends.”
Another laugh burst from me.
Fiona smiled. It was warm and lit up her whole face.
“I respect the fight of doing it alone,” she continued. “But it’s time to wave the white flag. We’re here, and we’re not letting you do it alone. Because, babe, I consider one of the greatest crimes another mother can commit against another is to not help another when she’s able. So hold the fuck on, bitch, we’re here to help.”
I couldn’t bring myself to argue.
I didn’t want to.
So I held the fuck on.
Fiona unpacked the food, spoke a mile a minute, helped with Mabel when she woke and didn’t leave until Kane arrived home.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could handle things.
And so the rotation of the Jupiter women started.
Nora was next. Pregnant herself, she came with her husband Rowan and their daughter Ana. Rowan I’d seen at the café a few times. He was tall, muscular and absurdly handsome. He also seemed to only smile for his wife and daughter. He lit up for them. It had hurt to look at before.
Those days, not so much since I had a man who lit up for me too.
Rowan was a man of few words, but he was also a man unafraid of crying babies, handling Mabel with the ease and care of a skilled father.
“I’ll take her outside.” His voice was deep, serious, and just a little intimidating, even to me who was not easily intimidated. “Fresh air. It’s good for them.” He looked at me. “Also, you won’t be able to listen out for her cries and convince yourself it’s your job and only your job to go to her.”
He winked knowingly at me. I got the impression that a wink from Rowan was rare and likely not to be repeated.
Then he looked at Kane. “I’m thinking we’ll have a beer. You got any?”
“Oh, I’ve got beer.” Kane told Rowan before his eyes grazed mine. “You good here, Chef? Need anything?”
I shook my head. “Go drink beer, do man things.” I was trying not to marvel at how Mabel immediately nuzzled up against the strange man holding her, settling there effortlessly. I feared that if I looked too hard, I’d ruin it; she’d realize that five seconds ago, she was majorly pissed.
Kane kissed my forehead then my lips before going to the fridge and getting two beers.
Both Nora and I watched the men leave. Ana had already run off to the toy and baby product graveyard to find something to play with.
Nora looked me over. “You go have a shower or a long bath or scream into a pillow. I’ll whip us up a cake.”
I gaped at her. “It would be incredibly rude of me to leave a visitor here on her own. And I doubt I have the ingredients to ‘whip up a cake.” I struggled to catalog the contents of my fridge and pantry when that used to be second nature to me.
“It’s most certainly not rude. Actually, I would consider it rude if you stand here and make small talk with me when I’m guessing it feels like your brain is melting from the inside out from lack of sleep.” She smiled with empathy. “And you let me worry about the ingredients.” Though everything about the woman was sweet, serene, there was adamance in her tone.
I glanced to the glass doors, out to where I could see figures on the beach. A pang hit my chest because Rowan’s prediction was right; I couldn’t hear whether Mabel was crying or not which sent my heart rate skyrocketing. Yes, she might’ve been perfectly content right then, or she could’ve been screaming her head off.