Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“And maybe we’ll find something for you at the same time,” Preston suggests with a grin that makes her shake her head disapprovingly.
“I’m starting to think that’s what this is all about. Is it even your sister’s birthday?” she asks.
“Oh, definitely.” That much is absolutely true. “In fact, we’re all supposed to go to dinner tonight for her. We’ll have to find you something to wear for that.”
“Wait a minute. What?” When we go into the store, she has to follow us. “What are you talking about? Dinner?”
“Yeah, I left a note at home asking if we could add another person to our reservation for tonight.” I can’t help but laugh when I look over my shoulder and see her face go red. “It’ll be fun.”
“Oh, yeah. Fun. Dinner with your family when I’m completely unprepared.” She chews her lip and fiddles with her pearls, but I know it’s not going to make a difference. She’s coming with us.
“I really don’t understand any of this,” she confesses once Preston takes the shopping bags out of her hands, and I give her a plastic basket.
“It’s pretty simple. If we’re going out to dinner for Sarah’s birthday, we want you there with us.” Putting my hands on her shoulders, I turn her around so she’s facing the rows and rows of makeup and skincare, perfume, and all kinds of other things I can’t even identify. “So get whatever you want, as much of it as you want. Whatever you need to feel good tonight.”
“I really can’t believe this.” She looks up at me, her brow creased. “What’s the catch?”
I hate that she even has to ask that question. She’s still not completely convinced. “There’s no catch. You want to live? Start living. Get anything and everything you want. Don’t even think about the cost. Just let yourself have fun.”
“And don’t bother asking for our opinion on anything, because we don’t have the first clue,” Preston jokes. It takes her a second, but she eventually starts off, walking slowly down the first aisle.
I exchange a glance with Preston. “Is this crazy?” I ask. “Are we doing the right thing?”
“Does it feel like the right thing?” he asks.
I don’t need to think about the answer. I only need to check in with how I feel inside. “Definitely. You?”
“Absolutely.” We’re both smiling as we watch Emma progress through the store. Somehow, it’s even possible to smile when it’s time to pay for everything she loaded into her basket. Whatever it takes, so long as I can see her looking this happy. I’d buy the whole store if I had to.
By the time we’re finished and back at the house, I sort of feel like I bought the entire mall. There are bags from a half dozen stores scattered around my room, and the happy humming coming from the shower reminds me what it’s all about. She wanted to live a little? She definitely lived today. So did our bank cards.
Sarah comes limping up to my door while Emma is still in the shower. “I heard Emma’s coming to dinner.” She’s all smiles, telling me she likes the idea. “Is she? I thought we could get ready together.” And I love her for it. If there’s one thing Emma needs, it’s acceptance. She’s been missing that just as much as she’s missed money and security. She deserves to have the kind of experiences other girls have all the time. When Sarah taps on the bathroom door and asks Emma to meet her in her room, I hear the excitement in Emma’s voice when she accepts.
It could be this easy, couldn’t it? Bringing her into the fold, making her a part of our lives. Not that I’d want to take her from Grandma Lois—the two of them need each other. But I need her in my world too.
Maybe we could move Grandma Lois in with us?
Okay, now I’m taking it too far. But I can’t help it. I’m practically giddy by the time I’m dressed and downstairs with Preston, waiting for everybody else.
Mom joins us first, and right away I notice how bright-eyed and put-together she is. She doesn’t have that glassy look, and she’s not overly hyper or talkative the way she can be when she’s on an opioid high.
“You look so handsome, both of you,” she murmurs, reaching up to adjust the collar on my button-down shirt. “Between the three of us, I think it’s sweet the way you want to include your friend. Sarah tells me she’s a very nice girl.”
“She is,” Preston quickly agrees. “And she’s had a really tough time, so we want to make things nice for her whenever we can.”
Mom takes one of my hands, then one of Preston’s. Are there tears in her eyes when she looks up at us, wearing a loving smile? “My boys. You have the sweetest hearts. That’s one thing I’ve never questioned about either of you. You are both my sweet sons.”