Chapter 19 #2
At that, my sister burst into loud, messy tears.
When she finally pulled over and shifted into park, she explained, “I cry at everything. I’m sorry. And I was going to tell you. It’s just very early—”
“Hey, it’s okay,” I interrupted, pulling her into another hug, this one better because the car wasn’t moving.
Still teary-eyed and emotional, my sister said, “Mark is so, so happy. He was dying to tell you. But I made him promise to let me, since, you know, you’re my sister.”
I smiled.
I was sure Mercer was thrilled. He and Candace had only been married a few months, but he loved my sister, and he had family man stamped all over him.
And considering Mercer’s past, I was nothing but relieved that my friend was getting the life he deserved.
There had been a time when I’d worried that Mercer might never get over what he’d been through.
Back in college, his best friend, Hannah, had gotten pregnant unexpectedly.
After the baby’s father had broken things off and told her he wanted no part of the baby’s life, she’d shown up on Mercer’s dorm-room doorstep and begged him to get married.
Her reverend father would have disowned her, and Mercer knew that.
So he’d married her. They’d moved in together right away, and let everyone assume the baby was his. Mercer had dropped out of school so Hannah could finish her degree while he stayed home with a newborn.
All of that sacrifice, for Hannah to file for a divorce a year into their marriage because she’d been dating behind Mercer’s back and had fallen in love with someone else. She’d told Mercer he had no rights and had taken the baby and left, moving out of state.
It had been a sad, awful chapter in Mercer’s life, but that was a whole other story.
“How are you feeling? Have you been sick?” I asked my sister.
Candace told me she’d been fine so far, but there was a tremble in her voice. Her fingers tightened reflexively on the steering wheel as she gazed out the windshield.
I swallowed and asked very gently, “Are you scared?”
“So scared,” she admitted in a rush. “Like, what if I don’t know what I’m doing?
What if I don’t hold the baby right? Or what if I’m not maternal?
What if I can’t breastfeed or I have postpartum depression?
What if the baby has sleep regression or-or-or food allergies or I end up being a terrible mother? ”
“Candace, breathe,” I instructed, and then reached for my sister’s hand.
Her wide hazel eyes met mine, and I smiled a watery smile.
“You know,” I told her, “shitty moms probably never sit around and worry about any of those things.” Still smiling, I went on, “You’re going to do great because you’re willing to learn.
You learned how to work on the farm. You learned how to be in a relationship.
And now you’ll learn how to be a good mother.
I believe in you, Candace. And you and Mercer will figure out this baby thing together.
They’ll be the first Judd grandbaby. We’ll all be learning together, but I promise, we’ll be right there with you. ”
My sister nodded, some of the panic leaving her face. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
“Raising a kid will be a big change for all of us, but it’s going to be a good one.”
Candace nodded some more. I thought that might be all she was capable of currently. Sure didn’t seem like she was in any shape to drive a car yet.
All of a sudden, she brightened. “You know, you’ve kind of been raising a kid for the last few months. I know Georgie’s not a baby, but that’s definitely some experience you’re bringing to the table.”
Whatever feelings I’d buried earlier tonight with all that tequila bubbled to the surface abruptly. Sadness battled with the happiness I’d been feeling only moments ago.
“I don’t think that’s the same, Candace.”
“But it is. You love Georgie. He’s with you nearly every day. You know his favorite foods and which stories he likes before bed. You take care of him.”
“That’s different,” I insisted again.
“Maybe. But you’ve become a big part of his life.”
My sister looked at me then, worry returning. I could practically hear the unspoken question. What happens next week when the movie wraps?
But Candace knew me well enough not to ask.
“Let’s get you home,” she said.
As we made our way down the dark highway, I thought about Mercer and Candace having a baby. Not all change was bad.
For so long, I’d seen any upset to my carefully constructed life as an inconvenience—something to be endured or dealt with. At thirty-six, I was already stuck in my ways. But our lives weren’t static or stationary. They evolved. Families grew and matured.
That thing I’d been trying to forget elbowed its way to the forefront. Those photos of Ian and me. How we’d looked at each other. How the love was written all over our faces.
We’d been playing house for months, deviating from my perfectly crafted solitary existence. It had been effortless, and the happiest I’d ever been . . . because of Ian and George.
Not all change was bad, I thought again.
Maybe I could go with Ian to Los Angeles for the premiere. We’d been happy in Kirby Falls, but it wouldn’t hurt to give a little, to see his life, too. To let him show me. Maybe we could figure this out if he wanted to. Be adults about it.
Yes, I was a farmer full-time, but my work was seasonal. Perhaps we could split our time, make it work.
Good things were worth hanging on to with both hands. And this—me and Ian and George—we were the best thing.
As Candace drove slowly down my bumpy drive, I pulled out my phone.
Before I lost my nerve, I typed out a short text and hit send.
Me: If the offer still stands, yes, I’ll come to LA for the premiere.