Chapter 9
Cody
It’s Saturday, the day before Mother’s Day, and the whole family’s outside working in the garden. We’re setting out the patio furniture, pulling weeds from the flower beds, getting everything prepped.
It’s tradition. Every Mother’s Day weekend, we get the garden ready early so that by June, all we have to do is plant.
Karissa is sitting with Cora on a blanket in the grass, playing with her and watching us.
I can tell she’s not that comfortable around babies, but she’s trying.
She’s talking to Cora, showing her how the toys work or what they do, but when she handles her, she’s very cautious. Like she’s afraid of hurting her.
I’ve been watching her like a hawk the last few days.
Checking in on her before we go to sleep, when she wakes up, throughout the day.
It’s like my subconscious is waiting for her to tell me she feels off.
Because I can see it happening so quickly, and I want to be ready.
I feel better that Ella is around, for the most part.
Of course, if something would happen, I’m sure she would be at work. That’s my luck.
Addison’s voice cuts through my thoughts, snapping me back to the present.
She and Mason are bickering about something again—nothing serious, just their usual banter.
“Prove it,” Mason challenges, hands on his hips, head cocked.
“No,” Addison shoots back, laughing. “I don’t want to.”
“What are you even arguing about?” I ask, pulling my rake from the dirt again.
“She thinks she could outrun me,” Mason says, with a scoff on the end of it. “Like if I was chasing her. As a cop.”
“Ha! Addison, stop.” I laugh. “When’s the last time you even ran?”
She glares at me. “Excuse me?”
“Answer it.”
She pauses. “I don’t know…”
“Gym class?” Jesse throws out with a laugh. We all crack up, even Addison.
“Definitely couldn’t outrun him,” I say, shaking my head and continuing to rake out the edge of the garden bed. “Me on the other hand…”
“Oh stop.” Addison groans with an eye roll.
“No way.” Mason shakes his head. “You’d be face-first in the grass in ten seconds.”
“Prove it,” Dad calls from his spot, not even looking up. That gets a round of laughter.
“Alright.” I drop the rake and stretch my arms out. “Try me.”
Mason raises a brow and nods his head out toward the yard. “Let’s see it.”
I bolt.
The second my boots hit the grass I hear Jesse yell, “And they’re off!”
I’m quick—quicker than you think I’d be—but Mason’s faster. I can feel him already moving in behind me.
I dodge around the clothesline, aiming for the edge of the pasture, but I don’t make it far. Fifteen seconds—max—and an arm wraps around my middle, yanking me over and knocking the wind out of me as I hit the ground with a hard thud. Mason lands on top, pinning me down in a second.
“So, who’s faster?” He huffs, half laughing, half out of breath.
“I’ll give it to ya.” I laugh, grunting, trying to shove him off.
He shoves my face into the grass before hopping off. “That’s what I thought.”
Laughter explodes behind us. Addison, Jesse, Ella, Mom, Dad…even Karissa’s cracking up.
He helps me up and we head back to the garden, catching our breath along the way.
“Looks like you lost,” Addison retorts, hands on her hips, a smug grin on her face. “I definitely could’ve outrun him longer.”
“In your dreams.” I laugh. My eyes catch Karissa’s, still smiling, so I make my way over. “How’d I do?”
“Well, you know.” She shrugs.
“He’s faster than I remember,” I say, trying to defend myself, but she shakes her head and laughs more.
I’ve never heard her laugh like that before. It catches me off guard. Light and unfiltered…the kind of laugh that sticks with you. The kind you want to hear again.
Another forty minutes pass before we call it a day.
We clean up while Mom brings out a tray of iced tea and lemonade, along with some kind of homemade treat. Black raspberry scones—still warm, of course.
I stand next to Karissa, finishing mine in three quick bites. She holds Cora and eats hers slower, more carefully. Cora watches her chew like she’s fascinated, her round eyes following every bite.
“You ready to go then?” I ask.
Karissa adjusts Cora on her hip. Before she can answer, Cora leans out of her arms toward me.
“Oh?” Karissa says, eyebrows raised.
I reach out and take her. “You never want me,” I mutter, settling her against my chest. “What’s that about?”
She just grins up at me, a drooly smile accompanied by the famous Jennings dimple popping on her left cheek.
“She probably just doesn’t like me,” Karissa says with half a laugh.
“Oh stop,” I say. “She’s not crying; that’s always a plus.”
When we get back home, Karissa heads straight for the shower. While she’s in there, I pull something from the closet I picked up for her a few days ago, then load the dishwasher while I wait for her to come out.
When she does, steam drifts out of the bathroom behind her. Her brown-and-blonde hair is damp, already starting to curl.
Her face doesn’t look much different without makeup, still just as pretty as when she wears it.
“What?” She freezes. Probably wondering why I’m standing here waiting for her. I uncross my arms and tell myself to relax.
I clear my throat. “I got you something,” I blurt out. “I hope you don’t hate me for it though.”
She blinks but her eyes are soft, “What is it?”
I hand over the brand-new, still boxed-up Bible. The inner walls of my chest feel brittle. I don’t know how she’ll take the gesture. Some people can get offended, defensive, with a gift like this, and that’s the last thing I’m trying to do.
She takes it hesitantly, but she takes it.
“You got me a Bible?”
“Yeah,” I admit, still holding my breath. “It’s a study Bible. Addison’s got the same one, said she likes it.”
She stares at the box, and my heart still hasn’t resumed beating. Another second of silence between us and I might die.
“Thank you,” she finally says, looking at it. “Really. That’s a sweet gesture.” She looks up at me, her tone and eyes tell me she’s being genuine.
I nod and flash a soft smile. “Early Mother’s Day gift.”
“I’m not a mom yet,” she argues.
“Yes you are.”
“She’s not here yet.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re a mom, whether she’s here or not,” I insist, but she doesn’t look convinced.
“But—”
“Just accept the gift, Karissa, and don’t say you’re not a mother again,” I bite out. It’s sharper than I meant it, but it earns me a small smile anyway. The air shifts. It’s lighter, easier, and I take that as a win.
“I’ll read it tonight, before I go to sleep,” she says.
“Good. I usually do mine in the morning, but that’s just preference.”
“I’ve never seen you read yours.”
“I don’t do it out here. I like to be alone.”
“Oh.” She says it softly, and for a second, I wonder if she gets it, how some things aren’t for an audience. Some things are just between you and God.
“If you have questions or anything, you know where to find me.” I nod toward my room.
She gives a slow, knowing nod in return, and I can’t help but wonder if she actually will. Part of me hopes she does.