Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
He sits on the end of my bed with his hands resting in his lap. He doesn’t hang out for no reason, so I ask, “Something on your mind, Dad?”
Taking his time as he always does, he looks out the window at the leaves blowing in the gentle breeze. When he redirects his gaze to me, he says, “I wish your mom could be here to help you with all this wedding planning and hullabaloo.”
“I do, too.” My heart pings over it from figuring out the flavor of the cake Peaches is making for us or shopping for a dress, which has been done online before bed since that’s the only real time I have to dedicate to it. “But you’re here, and I’m so grateful for all you do to help with the property.”
He takes a breath and looks down. “You deserved a mom to be here. I’m sorry she’s gone, and you’re stuck with me.”
I get up to sit next to him. Wrapping my arm around his back, I lean my head against his shoulder. “You’re enough, Dad. You’re not a consolation prize. I’d love for Mom to be here, but I’m at peace with how things are. I need you to find it in this life as well.”
He covers the hand I rest on his shoulder and pats it. “I can find joy in these special occasions. I’ll celebrate every family milestone on this earth that I’m given. I will do my best to be all you need, but you have to tell me if I’m failing. I’m not good with this stuff, but I’ll keep trying.”
“That’s good enough.” I kiss his cheek, then return to the desk to finish putting on my makeup. Lauralee has insisted we go all out with all the occasions. I’m not sure what to expect at a bachelorette party, but I’m worried it will be like what I’ve seen in the movies.
He stands and goes to the door. “So you and Tagger Grange, huh?”
I waggle my finger, unable to stop the epic smile taking over my face. I’ve smiled so much recently that my cheeks hurt. “Seems that way.”
“You’ll make a good wife and a good bonus mom to his son, but make sure he understands that you’re your own woman and he needs to be a good husband. Or else he’ll have to deal with me.”
“And Baylor.” I laugh.
He opens the door, and adds, “You make a fine pair.” When he ducks out, I hear crinkling in the hallway. “And since this seems to be a done deal, I wanted to give you something.”
I stand, having no idea what it could be. We’ve always had modest birthdays and Christmas gift exchanges, so a present out of the blue is new for us. “Is this a wedding gift?”
“Two gifts.” He comes back into the room and hands me a little store bag. “This one is from your mother.”
My breath deepens as a swarm of emotion overcomes me. I don’t know why I’m afraid to open it. I look at him, and ask, “What is it?”
“Just open it, Christine.”
I do, the crinkling of the bag connecting to the sound he made outside my room. I pull out a little velvet bag, then pour the contents into my palm. He says, “I know you can buy your own, but I thought you might like to have Mom’s sapphire earrings. I had them cleaned and polished. They look new.”
A tear falls on top of one of them. Glancing up at him, I take a staggered breath. “I forgot about these. She used to wear them on her birthday—”
“And our anniversary.”
“She once wore them to the grocery store and whispered we don’t have to save our special things for only special occasions.” The memory makes me sob. “I don’t think I’d ever seen her smile and laugh so much while shopping for pantry staples. It was like she had discovered the secret to happiness.” I turn them over in my hand. “Enjoy life and every day you’re given.” I put one on and then the other. “How do I look?”
He nods and clears his throat, but I see the tears in his eyes so I can only imagine the size of the frog in his throat. “You look beautiful, dear daughter.”
I hug him. “Thank you. I’ll treasure them forever.”
“Good. Now,” he says, standing and going into the hallway again. “I have something from me. Well, your mom and I, but you’ll understand.” Pushing open the door, he holds her white dress on a hanger in front of him.
My makeup is ruined, so I don’t worry about it and rush to the dress. Holding it between my fingertips, I pull it out in front of me. “How?” I look at him, smiling proudly. “It’s perfect, not a stain on it. I thought it was ruined. How did you get it so clean?”