Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Molly nods, then calls to my mom, “It was good to see you, Kathleen.”
“And you too, Molly,” Mom says. “Bye, Noah.”
“Good luck,” I say, watching Molly and her son leave through the back.
“Bye, Rayden!” Noah calls over his shoulder.
I don’t even notice Mom’s moved until she’s standing at my side. “She’s a lovely woman,” she says softly.
“I know.”
“And a good mom.”
I nod. “That she is.”
“And she looks at you like you walk on water.”
I frown. Mom sees what she wants to see. “Resist the urge to set me up, please.”
Mom just laughs and shakes her head, walking back to the tasting room. “I’m hungry, Brayden. Could I talk you into taking an old lady to lunch?”
Molly
“I’m so sorry,” Teagan says, frowning into her beer.
“Why are you apologizing?” I drain a quarter of my beer in one pull and sigh. It’s been a long afternoon spent looking at the best rental homes and apartments Jackson Harbor has to offer. It turns out that Noah’s Santa-friendly chimney requirement is the least of my concerns, because 1) hardly anything is available right now, and 2) my budget is laughable in this town. “You warned me it’d be slim pickings.”
“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t hoping that one of them might have been a hidden gem. Sometimes they look worse in the pictures, but the potential is clear when you see them in person.”
“Sadly, none of these. If anything, I should apologize to you. You wasted an afternoon off work.”
“Oh, I had my own selfish reasons,” she says. “I have a perfectly good alarm and don’t need a four-year-old bunking with me and waking me up at ungodly hours.”
I laugh. “I promise Noah and I won’t be crashing at your place. That’s what hotels are for.”
Teagan frowns, and I know she’s no happier about that potential solution than I am.
Today was hard. When I woke up this morning, I had to fight an old heaviness to get through my normal routine. Life should feel easier. We buried my asshole stepfather almost two months ago, and I finally don’t have to worry about him finding out about my son. My stepbrother, Colton, is out of rehab, and I’m preparing for the very first event at the Jackson Brews banquet hall. Despite my looming homelessness, everything is amazing. And yet I woke up this morning feeling the old ache of loneliness gnawing at my bones, and it hasn’t let go all day.
Jake emerges from the kitchen. He’s in such a good mood that he’s damn near swaggering. “Smile, ladies,” he says, leaning on the edge of the bar opposite us. “It’s snowing. We’ve got beer. Life is good.”
I’m not in much of a smiling mood, but I can’t help but obey when I realize he’s wearing one of the new Jackson Brews T-shirts. As I suspected, Brayden’s the only one who doesn’t think it’s funny.
“Easy for you to say,” Teagan says. “You’re not going to be homeless at Christmas like poor Molly here.”
Jake grimaces as he turns his attention to me. “Shit. I’m an ass. I forgot.”
I roll my eyes. “She makes it sound like Noah and I are going to spend our Christmas sleeping beneath the overpass and huddled around a burning trash barrel. We’ll be okay.” That’s what I keep reminding myself—it’s not ideal, but it’s okay. We’re always okay, my boy and I. This is nothing but another bump in the road that’s turned Noah into the most awesome tiny human I know.
“Hey!” Teagan nudges me with her elbow. “Don’t ruin a perfectly good guilt trip.”
“No luck finding a place?” Jake asks.
I shake my head. “Maybe I’m too picky, but . . .”
“I saw there’s a small house on Crawford for rent,” he says. “It’s close to the park.”
I stifle a shudder at the memory of the rat-infested two-bedroom on the east side of town. “Saw it. Hard pass.”
Ava comes out from the kitchen, smoothing her skirt down around her baby bump. If Jake’s long stare at his new wife didn’t give away what they were doing back there before Jake emerged in a suspiciously cheerful mood, Ava’s flushed cheeks would. The new husband and wife can’t keep their hands off each other, and her pregnancy hasn’t seemed to slow them down at all.
A tug of longing rips through my gut, sudden and unexpected. My pregnancy was long, lonely, and wrought with too many fears for the future. Noah was worth every bit of it, but to get the joy of a child without all those moments of terror and self-doubt . . .
I push my envy aside and paste on a smile. Wishing I’d had just a little of what she has doesn’t change that I want it for her or how happy I am that she and Jake finally found their way to each other.