Chapter 26
HONEY, TWO MONTHS LATER
I flitter around the half-finished kitchen, checking the trays of food that dot the island. “At least the electrician finished, and we can plug the slow cooker in. Do you think I made enough soup?” I pull the lid off the slow cooker and frown down at the contents.
“You weren’t supposed to cook anything.” John mock-frowns at me. “Everybody else is bringing food. Danni, Emma, and Skye told me to make sure you just sat around and looked pretty.”
I purse my lips. “I don’t think they said those exact words.
” I scoot some of the trays over to make room for more dishes.
“I needed to do something. I’m nesting big time now.
I’m in cooking, cleaning, organizing, beautifying overdrive.
In a month, I promise to sit around and look pretty, but until then, I’m going to be super busy. ”
“Tiny, this alone is more than I cook when I’m trying to feed a whole passel of ranch hands.” John tugs at the collar of his polo and runs a hand through his hair.
“I’m glad your curls are growing back. You look cute.”
“Take that back.”
“What exactly is a passel?” I smile up at him, then stand on my tiptoes and kiss him.
“Knock, knock,” Rena calls out, already walking in, Ned close behind. “I brought baby gifts and pie.”
“The more pie, the merrier,” I tell her then make a face and rub my belly. “This little guy must like pie too because I swear he just pirouetted.”
Rena sets everything down on the last available space on the counter, hugs me, then studies my face. “Yup, you’re glowing.” She scoots by me and gives John a pat on the cheek. “You too, honey.”
“Glad somebody finally noticed,” John grumbles.
Rena washes her hands in the sink. “What can I do to help?” She surveys the counter and shakes her head. “Did everybody already bring their dishes? I didn’t see anyone out front.”
“Nope. Nobody else is here yet,” John says. “Wren woke up in the mood to cook and she’s been going crazy ever since. Fortunately, Monster ate one of the bowls of pasta salad when we weren’t looking, so I was able to fit everything into the pickup in two trips.”
Rena laughs and shakes her head. “Come on.” She puts her arm out for me to take.
“Looks like there are pitchers of iced tea and lemonade out on your pretty veranda. Let’s you and I go sit and watch everyone arrive and look at that clear, blue pond.
I see you got a couple cormorants out there fishing. Did you put fish in there, Fox?”
“Yep, but don’t tell Ned, or he’ll be driving back to his house to get his fishing rods and frying up all my fish.”
Rena laughs. “That’s for sure.”
“Sounds good.” When we’re seated, Rena digs in her big shoulder bag and hands me a handkerchief.
I study the exquisite embroidery along the lacy edges. “This is gorgeous!”
“There’s Danni’s initials.” She points to a DHM.
“And not to jump the gun too much but I heard you and Skye found a dress, so”—her fingers slide to a ballet slipper pink HHR— “there’s yours, already stitched on so you can’t back out.
They’re not as neat as the first ones because my fingers don’t have the gift quite as much as they used to. ”
“It’s beautiful, Rena. And I know you’re joking, but I’m not backing out.”
“I am joking.” Her expression turns serious.
“It’s going to be a quick wedding. But I think you two have been waiting to find each other for a while now.
And you’re both level-headed. You two are something real sweet together, and I’m glad you came here to Paradise Springs, even though it wasn’t under happy circumstances. ”
I hug her again, and she grins then nods down at the handkerchief.
“Now, that right there is your something borrowed and something blue. And it can even be your something old, depending on your definition of old. But if you’re going to call it old, you might want to keep that to yourself because this handkerchief is younger than me. ”
I run a finger over the delicately embroidered initials. “So many brides,” I say softly.
She nods. “All of them starting a new life with their chosen love. Some of them finding love for the second time after loss, like you.” Her eyes shine with compassion, and I nod, a lump in my throat.
“Skye told me you picked out a dress that has pockets, which is a real nice thing for a bride. You can stick that handkerchief in a pocket or tuck it in your cleavage. Maybe you won’t cry but maybe you will, and if you do, dab at your tears or blow your nose—that’s what it’s for. No need to be dainty.”
“Can I cry now?” I smile tearily at her.
She hugs me. “You can cry whenever you durn well want.”
Danni’s truck barrels toward the house then veers off, coming to a stop to the right of the house, leaving space for others to park. Danni, Bear, and Meatball jump out just as Emma, Tank, Hudson, and Presh arrive.
“We brought a lasagna and a salad,” Emma sings, beating Danni to the veranda even though she’s holding a big salad bowl. “But it looks like we should have brought lots of towels also.” She nudges her chin toward Presh, Monster, and Meatball sprinting toward the pond. “They’re going to be a mess.”
“Let me help,” I stand, but Tank, with the lasagna and numerous gift bags strung on his arms, waves me back and Emma continues past, yelling out behind her, “I’ll set it in the kitchen real quick. Then I’ll join you gals, so don’t start talking without me.”
Bear nods, climbing the steps lugging two big, folding tables. “Ladies.” He smiles at me, “Where do you want these tables, Honey?”
“In the kitchen. We ran out of space for the food and gifts. Thanks, Bear.”
Danni hugs me, then side-hugs Rena.
“Hi, love,” Rena says.
Danni plunks down in a seat. “Comfy.”
“Fortunately, we have just enough chairs for everyone coming here today.” I point to the pond dock. “We can’t use those dock chairs and tables. They’re attached to the dock, so a hurricane doesn’t blow them away.”
Danni sits back and sighs contentedly. “I love this view. I think it’s even more beautiful out here than last week when we all painted the nursery.”
Emma grabs a chair and scoots it closer. “Skye texted and said she’s almost here with Ava and Lacy.” She rubs her hands together. “I can’t wait to see all your adorable, little baby gifts.”
“How are you feeling?” Danni asks.
“I’m good. I get headaches and my mind gets a little lazy once in a while, but I’m not sure if that’s the lingering effects of the concussion or if it’s the pregnancy hormones.
” I lean in closer. “John is so excited about all the baby gifts. My Aunt Birdie and Aunt Louisa sent some baby clothes and a newborn wrap carrier, and he acted like it was Christmas. He’s already tried the wrap on and made sure it fits him. ”
“Oh my goodness, that’s so cute,” Emma exclaims while Rena chortles.
“Tell him that. He loves it when someone calls him cute.”
“You may have noticed this already because Fox is so great with Ava and Hudson,” Danni says, “but he’s always been really good with kids.
Bear told me that he used to call Fox the Lacy whisperer.
After their mother died and Bear brought his sisters here to set up May Ranch, Lacy was having tantrums and nightmares.
Bear, Tank, Fox, and Ned juggled caring for Lacy when they were working long days together, but whenever Lacy would have a tantrum—"
“Are you talking about me?” Lacy plops down on a chair and scoots in closer.
Danni grins. “We were talking about how when you were having a tantrum, Bear, Ned, or Tank would call Fox, and he’d calm you down right away.”
“Yep.” Lacy takes a sip of lemonade. “I remember that.”
“What did he do?” Emma asks. “Because when Hudson would have a tantrum, it was the end of the world for a good hour.”
Lacy shoots a quick glance over her shoulder toward the door before hitting Danni with a hard stare. “I’m sworn to secrecy for life, but if you don’t tell Bear, I’ll tell you.”
Danni bites her lip.
“I mean it,” Lacy says.
Danni finally nods.
“He’d slip me M&M’s.”
Everyone is laughing when John pops his head out to check on me. “Need anything?” he asks.
“Good dental insurance.”
“Huh?” he quirks an eyebrow.
“Nothing. I’m great.” I smile at him before he pops back inside.
“He did buy a lot of M&M’s at Greene’s,” Rena tells us. “Those little packets he could slip in his pocket. I just thought he had a mighty big sweet tooth.”
“I’m going to have to make sure that once our little guy’s old enough,” I tell them, “John gets him in for frequent, rigorous dental cleanings.”
Lacy smiles at Danni, Emma, and Rena. “Did you hear that? Honey just said ‘our little guy.’”
Danni grins from ear to ear. “I know. I just fell in love with her even more. I think she meant he’s our little guy also.”
“Yep,” I tell them. “I’ll be sharing. Especially when he has colic and he’s teething.”
When everyone leaves, they help haul gifts back to John’s house. He lays out all the baby gifts on the table in the sunroom—including the tiny cowboy boots from Bear and a soft as butter “beginner” cowboy hat from Lacy.
“I have to help Bear with a sick calf in the far pasture,” John tells me. “You think you can manage without me for a couple hours?”
“It’ll be difficult.” I pull him to me and hug him so long and hard that I have to remind him of the sick calf and push him out the door when I’m done.
I sit out on the front porch with a piece of paper and a pen.
I’ve read through each one of the letters in the shoebox.
They’ve all hit me hard in different ways.
Their struggles, their accomplishments, their encouragement to the women they knew would read their letter.
I’ve had to keep a box of tissues nearby.
But with each letter, I feel a little stronger.
A little more ready to move on. Even though Trey dropped John’s lawsuit, and Trey’s PR firm and his agent dropped Trey like hot lava rocks after “someone” sent them the whole video and parts of it were leaked, I find myself still looking behind me sometimes.
And I’m still adjusting to being loved so thoroughly and so sweetly by John.
I pick up the pen and start writing.
To you. Yes, you.
My sister has always told me to search out and savor the small, good things in my life.
When my life was demolished by loss, she reminded me again to find and relish the small, good things to get me through the now, until I found a big, good thing that can anchor everything.
That’s what kept me going for the last couple years, when things got so tough I thought I was shriveling away into nothing.
Your small, good things are going to be different from mine, but I thought I’d tell you some of mine that I found here in Paradise Springs.
The Cottage 15 bathtub! Fill it all the way to the top with hot water and make sure you bring plenty of snacks and a good book and luxuriate until you prune up and the water turns too cold to sit in any longer.
Lay on the couch and wait for the sunset to paint the living room wall. Be still and patient. It’s worth it even if sometimes you might fall asleep on the couch and miss the whole show.
The cinnamon buns at Dot’s Divine Donuts and Confections downtown. I mean it. Let Ned drive you there. He’s kind. You can trust him. I promise.
Having a sandwich on the Lake Rosie beach at sunset.
Swimming at Crescent Beach at night, when the stars are twinkling above and the sky is looking down at you with love.
If they haven’t already asked you, be prepared because Danni, Emma, and Honey are going to knock on your door and ask you to go with them.
I can guarantee they’ll love to take you.
They’re kind. You can trust all of them and talk as little or as much as you want to them.
The shoebox letters I read from everyone here in Cottage 15 before me, encouraging me to be strong, to love myself even if I have to learn how to again. The letters are tough to read, but I feel like I’m stronger after reading each one of them.
But really, it doesn’t matter, what MY small, good things are. You’ll find your own. Look for them. They’re there.
Lastly, love is out there for you, waiting, even if you don’t truly remember what it looks like because the memory of it has been battered and eroded by violence.
When you’re ready to unlock your heart, it’ll be there for you to notice, however it looks, big or small—a furry pal who always wants to be by your side, a kind neighbor who is looking out for you, a new friend who can see you even when you’re trying to hide, someone who has strong arms but a patient and kind heart…
Pretend that I’m giving you a hug right now. Pretend that I’m sitting right next to you and telling you, in person, to keep looking for the small, good things to fill your day until you have that big, good thing again. Because it’s coming!
You got this far, you’re tough, and you can do this.
Wren