It’s one of those holidays that is kind of difficult to avoid.
“It’s also my birthday.”
Ginger’s mouth falls open before she snaps it closed. “Happy birthday, Ford. I didn’t realize or I would have said it sooner.”
“Thank you and I don’t mind. I got used to having to share my day.”
“Arden has to do the same,” Ginger tells me.
“Christmas Day has to be worse,” I offer.
“I tried to balance the two as she was growing up, but I’m not sure if I succeeded or not,” her voice holds a hint of sadness in it.
“I don’t know, but I know your daughter succeeded in healing some of my resentment yesterday with heart shaped cookies she made herself.”
“She’s always been like that,” her voice turns wistful, “empathetic. Compassionate.”
“Arden is amazing and I’m going to marry her.” I pause, unsure if I should share the next part, but I power through, “She also gave me a copy of her manuscript.”
Ginger’s mouth drops open. “Wow,” she gushes, “she must really trust you if she gave you a copy. Most people don’t even know she writes.”
“I’m going to help her make all of her dreams come true,” I promise.
Her eyes find mine and flash with something like regret. “I think you’re the perfect man for her,” she breathes out the words. “I can see how much you love her and it’s all I have ever wanted for her.” Her voice drops down to a dangerous octave, “But if you ever hurt her, if you ever lay a hand on her, I’ll kill you and bury your body where no one can find you.”
I nod once, my face solemn. “Good.”
Ginger looks at me with surprise, before standing when I do. When I open my mouth to say goodbye and to thank her for her time, she wraps her arms around me and hugs me. It’s the first mom hug I’ve gotten in a long time.
Rosalie stopped giving them to me or maybe I stopped accepting them. There was no chance my mother was going to give out hugs.
A part of me sinks into the feeling and latches on.
“You take care of our girl, give her the life she deserves, one filled with happiness,” she rasps the words.
“It’s not too late for you to heal and find your own happiness, Ginger,” I tell her as we pull apart.
I can see she really considers my words instead of dismissing me. She gnaws on her bottom lip before straightening her shoulders and standing taller.
“I think you might be right, Ford. Even if I don’t find happiness with a man, I need to be the strongest and best version of myself so I can be an awesome grandmother.”
I laugh, the sound freeing the last of the tension in the room.
With goodbyes said and promises for dinner out at Sagebrush made, I’m headed back home. It takes me far too long to get there, considering I know Arden should be waiting for me already. I told her I had to grab something from town when Ginger’s place was my only destination.
When I walk into the house, the quiet is a little eerie. “Arden,” I call out, hoping like hell that nothing has gone wrong.
“In the kitchen,” she calls back to me.
When I step through the door, I find Arden looking like a chastised puppy and Rosalie looking more than a little confused. I know they know each other from town, at least a little bit, but I’m sure this is different.
I don’t waste time and stride right toward my woman. When I haul her into my arms, I don’t hesitate to swoop down and claim her mouth with my own.
She clings to me as I kiss her, not caring about Rosalie being in the room.
“Well,” Rosalie exclaims which causes Arden to jerk out of my hold, “that kiss answers pretty much all of my questions. I’ll see myself to my room and save the baby pictures for later.” She eyes us and how our bodies are molded together. “Might have to get more baby books soon by the looks of things.”
The grin that splits my face is so wide my cheeks hurt.
