Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
JULIETTE
Weston was trying to kill me. Either that, or he was protesting his cramped quarters. Too bad he still had at least two and a half weeks left to bake.
I leaned against the counter, rubbing the right side of my belly. “C’mon, buddy. I need you to move somewhere else.”
He kicked harder.
Someone behind me cleared her throat.
I was smiling before I finished turning. “Welcome to Last Chapter Coffee Co,” I said brightly. “What can I get you today?”
A woman in the thick of a hot flash fanned herself with a copy of Twilight.
Her gaze dragged over me, taking inventory of the heavy liner, the lip ring, and the septum piercing.
But there was nothing to recognize. I’d stripped Juliette Serrant away and replaced her with someone no one would want to look at twice.
“So many choices.” She fanned harder. “I need something that will chill out this hot flash.”
“You want the Anne of Green Gables, then.” I needed this tip. “It’s our lavender lemonade with this floral tea that blooms purple the second it hits the glass. It’s cold enough to make you forget the hot flash, and it’s my personal favorite.” I rubbed the aching muscle again.
“You sold me. And I’ll take this.” She slid Twilight toward me. “My copy walked off with my college-aged daughter.”
I laughed. “I respect her for it. That book’s basically irresistible.” I scanned it and rang up her drink. “One Anne of Green Gables Refresher!” I hollered.
“Got it!” Mabel answered from the kitchen.
I loved that woman with my whole heart. She’d found me on the side of the road, dragging a mattress I’d salvaged from the dump, tossed it in the back of her Suburban, and given me a ride “home.” Before she pulled away, she’d offered me a job.
When I’d told her I had no ID, she’d asked no questions and offered to hire me under the table.
I smiled at the customer. “Here’s your number.” I handed her the metal stand with the number six on it. “We’ll bring it right out.”
She slid a bill into my hand and winked. “Buy something nice for yourself before the baby comes.” Then she walked away. I opened my palm. A fifty-dollar bill. I looked up to call after her…
Then I saw the TV on the wall.
Fallon’s beautiful face filled the screen.
She stood at the microphone in the DayGlow boardroom. The volume was too low to hear, but the caption read: DayGlow Announces New Face of Brand.
My heart slammed to the ground. Weston flailed at the adrenaline rush. “No, no, no, no.” I hurried around the counter and pushed through the swinging door. I speed-walked over to the TV, one hand on my belly.
“I’m beyond grateful for this opportunity,” Fallon said, as if she’d been handed a script.
She very likely had. She kept blinking—too fast, too many times.
“DayGlow is a brand that uplifts women and celebrates beauty in all its forms.” That line made me want to vomit.
She held the smile a beat too long. “I’m so excited to represent that. ”
The camera cut away, but apparently she wasn’t done.
The camera swung back again. She was leaning down, mouth practically touching the microphone.
“I just want to tell my predecessor, Juliette Ser—rant—” she choked.
“—how very much I’ll miss her.” She smiled through her tears.
“How much I already miss her. And I understand why she felt it was time to move on.” She looked right into the camera, eyes hollow—as if she were looking through the screen and straight at me. “I love you, J.”
My hand was pressed to my heart as Fallon disappeared, and a weatherman took her place.
Today was Sunday. The second Sunday in June—my least favorite day of every month. I glanced at the clock. And if I didn’t do something fast, in seven hours and thirteen minutes, it would become Fallon’s.
“All right, little guy,” I said to Weston, peeling off my wig. “It’s time to be brave.” The sun was dropping quickly, and since it was the only light I had, I needed to move.
I removed the clip-on lip ring and septum piercing, and pulled a brush through my hair.
Then I glanced around the abandoned warehouse I’d called home for the last five months and ran a hand over the REI sleeping bag I’d picked up at Goodwill for six dollars.
Bless whoever donated it. It had kept Weston and me warm during the winter.
I bounced a little on the memory foam mattress—the dump score that had genuinely changed my life.
Smiled at the stack of books Mabel had loaned me.
The main characters in those stories had become my best friends.
Then I closed my eyes and prayed. God had helped us get this far. He could do it one more time.
After I said “amen,” I set my phone on my nightstand—an antique milk crate I’d found in a dusty corner—and pressed record.