9. Harper
Harper
Slightly shaken by the unexpected feelings Jace aroused, I crank up the radio on my drive home.
Soon, I’m turning onto my quiet tree-lined street, anxious to get home and finally let my mind work through this unexpected day.
There are only a few houses on my road, and I love that I’m close to town but have enough privacy to not feel closed in.
Driving under the canopy of Douglas firs, I smile at my small craftsman style bungalow tucked into the shade of one of those massive trees.
I fell in love the second I saw it over four years ago.
There’s a small front porch just big enough for the swing and two rocking chairs sitting on it.
To the right, there’s a sunroom; it used to be part of a wrap-around porch that the previous owner turned into a sunroom, and it’s my favorite room in the house.
The sun dapples through the trees, warming the space but blocking the view of anyone on the road, making it feel like a little secret retreat.
The white paint has faded, and overall, it has a very lived-in feel.
When I purchased it, there was a lot of work needed.
I’ve been slowly fixing it, and the last things on my list are to paint and do landscaping.
Ugh, and the roof that I’ve been ignoring for years.
Breathing deep, I let the feeling of being home soothe my frazzled senses.
Some lights inside the house are on, bathing the porch in a warm amber light.
As I unlock the door, I hear Lizzie’s squeal of delight.
Before I can close the door behind me, she’s in my arms. I snuggle into her, breathing that scent that is uniquely hers.
Bree leans against the double door entry of the living room, smiling.
Lizzie pulls back and pats her hair dramatically, turning her head this way and that so I can see the French braid Bree did.
I’m all thumbs and suck at doing hair, so it’s always a treat for her to spend time with Aunty Bree, or lately, Wren, who is a wiz with hair.
“Everything good while I was gone?” I ask over Lizzie's head while she rubs her face against my shirt, seeking that sensory input of the fabric against her cheek.
“Of course, Lizzie was a perfect angel as always.” My heart twists at the way she loves Lizzie, and I find myself blinking back tears, so grateful for her presence in our life.
Bree goes on alert, and I shake my head, mouthing, I’ll tell you later.
Then I give her a soft smile, so she knows nothing is wrong, just me being extra emotional tonight.
“Ms. Lizzie, it’s late, have you brushed your teeth?” She nods enthusiastically.
Bree laughs as her full lips pull into a wide smile. “Oh, did you now? I don’t remember that.”
Grinning at my girl, I try again, “Lizzie, it’s almost bedtime.
Did you brush your teeth, so they are all clean?
" Lizzie often struggles with answering questions, but we give her every opportunity to do it, and sometimes, rephrasing the question helps her understand what is being asked better. She nods again, giggling at me.
Pressing my forehead to hers, I growl playfully.
“Hey, trickster, go brush your teeth. I’ll be there to check in a second.
” Her giggles fill me as she races up the stairs to her room and bathroom.
Originally, I was dead set on our rooms being on the same floor, but this house was perfect.
The little room tucked upstairs with the sloped roof and exposed timber beams felt like a fairy hideaway, and I had instantly started imagining her room up there.
Kicking off my shoes and dropping my purse, I head for the stairs.
“Hey, Bree, want to hang out after I get little bits to bed?”
Bree grins, pulling out two bottles of wine from her tote bag. “Way ahead of ya, sister!”
Lizzie did in fact run to brush her teeth.
Unfortunately, she had gotten sidetracked and had her little hands coated in toothpaste by the time I got upstairs.
I’m constantly amazed at the speed in which kids can get into something and make an absolute mess.
Once the toothpaste was cleaned up and her teeth were brushed, the rest of bath time was uneventful, and Lizzie sat still for me to brush her hair, a real testament to how tired she must have been.
“Good night, Lizzie. I love you so much, all the way to the moon and back.” I kiss my girl on the cheek, loving the way her lips pull into a sleepy smile as I do.
Tucking her in, I watch her for a few seconds as my heart overflows with love for her.
On my way out of the room, I switch on the monitors I bought when we moved in, knowing I can see her at all times is such a relief and allows me to relax at night.
“What did you two do?” I call out as I head toward the kitchen where I can hear Bree.
“Lizzie was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open.” I hope she stays asleep.
Sleep has always been rough with her, going in spurts where she will be up all night.
The last two weeks she has slept through the night, but I know better than to assume this is the new normal.
“We had an epic Sofia the First dance party and karaoke night!” Bree smiles with two full glasses of wine in her hands. Holding one out to me, she grabs a bowl of popcorn, and we make our way into the sunroom. June in Oregon can get hot, but the evenings are mostly crisp and cool.
“You’re the best auntie any kid could have, Bree. I hope you know how much I love and appreciate you.” Voice cracking on the words, I take a healthy gulp of wine. We may not be related by blood, but chosen family bonds run so much deeper, in my opinion, and personal history.
“What’s all this about?”
I swallow, searching for the right words.
“It isn’t just one thing. Today at the festival, we booked out the spa for almost two months, and I was able to focus on the business, knowing Lizzie was happy and cared for.
All this gratitude just washed over me at the life I have.
When I first got here, I was alone, scared, and really broken by the betrayal of family and Lizzie’s dad.
” The word dad leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Curtis sure as hell doesn’t deserve that title.
“Uh, I think you mean sperm donor—that ass hat is not her dad.” She’s one of the only people here that knows my full story. The whole you were there when I delivered a baby thing kind of shot gunned our friendship.
Walking into The Toasted Bean, I wonder how many times a week I can come in before I look glutinous.
I thought my first trimester cravings were bad, but good grief the last month of pregnancy is taking them to a new level.
An embarrassing amount of my time is spent thinking about chocolate croissants, which is why I’m waddling my almost forty weeks pregnant ass into the coffee shop for lunch.
Pausing inside the doorway, I rub my lower back, which has been cramping since last night and no amount of stretching will ease it, so I plan to drown the discomfort in chocolate and pastry.
“Hi, are you ready to order?” the teenager behind the register asks with a smile, like she doesn’t already know exactly what I’m about to order.
“The usualllllll…fuck.” My back cramps so badly I can’t breathe. I look down, trying to catch my breath; the pressure is so intense.
“Harper, are you okay?” Bree, the owner, is now in front of me. We have talked a few times, basic small talk, nothing in depth, but she never forgets a name or face and has greeted me by name since our first introduction.
“Yeah, yeah, just a cramp.” My words are cut off as the pressure suddenly releases and warm wetness spreads down my legs. My head shoots up and my eyes go wide. “Did my…”
“Your water broke, Harper!” Bree cries enthusiastically. The girl behind the counter gags then asks if she should call an ambulance or something. She sounds panicked, and if I wasn’t panicking right alongside her, I would laugh at her reaction.
“Harper, uh...do you want us to call anyone?” Bree's hand is warm on my back, and I’m impressed at her calmness and lack of repulsion at my bodily fluids seeping onto her floor.
My first thought is to call Shaina, but I quickly shut that down.
She has been struggling so bad lately, and I can’t stand the thought of bothering her, or her feeling obligated to be there to watch me bring my daughter into the world when she just buried hers.
“No, my car is out front. I’ll just head to the hospital.”
“Like hell you are.”
“Oh, that sounds like a good plan.” Both responses come at once, one from Bree, the other from the pale-faced girl at the counter.
“Chelsea, please call Tonya and ask her to come in. Can you watch the shop until she gets here or should we close up?”
“I can manage, you two just go,” Chelsea calls, backing away from us, and this time, I do snort out a laugh.
Bree chuckles alongside me and starts guiding me out the door. “We can take my car,” she offers.
“I already christened your shop floor. I don’t think we need to add your car to the list of places I leaked on. Here are the keys to my car.” Bree takes them and we head to the hospital.
Bree stayed with me the whole time, holding my hand as I brought Lizzie into the world. The emotional letdown post-birth came with me pouring out my whole story to her.
She didn’t flinch, didn’t pity me, just held my hand and said, “Fuck ‘em. Fuck all of them!” Reminding me so much of Cass. “You have a beautiful baby girl now, and I promise to supply you with all the pastries and coffee you ever want.”
That was that. We became sisters and have been by each other’s side ever since.
Bolstered by her support, I let out a big sigh. “I almost met someone today.”
“What?” She gasps dramatically.