But before I realize what’s in it he says, “We figured we’d help you get a head start on the biggest project on your list.”
They got me a brand-new laptop. Staring down at the box I can’t help the tears that start falling.
“Summer said you were still using the laptop you had in college. So, we figured we’d get you something a little newer. I asked the guy at the store, and he said this would be perfect for writing and creating marketing tools for your book.”
“This is too much,” I say, hugging the box to my chest. “I can’t accept this. You guys, you especially, letting me move in here,letting me meet all your friends, bringing me to yoga class,” I say as the tears keep flowing.
“Honestly, Hannah, it’s nothing. I don’t think you realize, I didn’t even realize how much I missed having family around all the time since you moved in. Stop thinking you’re a burden. You’re not. Plus, you take all the goopy wet food out from the bottom of the sink like a real adult,” Levy says, finding a way to lighten the mood, as always.
Sitting at the counter, I set the box out in front of me and just look at it as I drink my coffee. I can’t believe they got me a laptop.
Levi is right, the one I have is old.
Older than I’d like to admit. It’s not like I didn’t have the means to buy a new laptop. Lucas just thought it was pointless to get me a new one when I had never written anything.“Who cares if you really have to jab the E and the L to get them to appear on the screen?”he would say. If I really wanted to write a book, “that wouldn’t be reason enough to stall me,” he would go on.
At this moment, I can’t say he’s wrong. I should have been able to. I should have been able to not listen to him. I should have been able to trust myself—to go for what I wanted. Instead, I was weak. I fell for his words telling me it was a waste of my time. I found excuses, like a shitty laptop or no time or whatever excuse sounded good at the time because part of me was afraid he was right. That writing would be a waste of my time. I fell and started believing his words, thinking he had my best interest at heart.
Shaking thoughts of Lucas out of my mind, I grab the box and carefully start opening it. Taking a break between every step to fully enjoy this moment and to make sure it is carefully stored in my brain, because I can’t believe Summer and Levi did this.
They believe in me. They actually think I can sit here and write an entire book, even though I’ve been less than a good friend over the years since moving to the East Coast. Who cares if Ihave an MBA, it’s not like I ever wanted it, but Lucas told me it would be my best bet at success, even if I hate the corporate world. He’s been running my life longer than I care to admit, but not anymore.
Them believing in me hits harder than the fact that Levi is housing me, essentially for free. He finally started letting me buy the groceries. I don’t know why, but he won’t let me pay him any kind of rent or even a utility bill. I might not have a place to stay without him, but I’m not completely destitute, my job paid well, more than well. Plus, I did get a nice settlement from the divorce and from the sale of our house.
“I can’t accept this,” I say out of the blue.
“And why not?” Levi says, I hadn’t realized he was still sitting next to me.
“Because I’m not destitute,” I answer defensively. “I can buy my own laptop. I have the money for it.”
“We know you do,” Levi says, grabbing the legs of my chair to spin it so I’m facing him “We know you have the money, what you don’t have, or didn’t have, is the confidence to go out and buy yourself a laptop. Tell me I’m wrong?” he says, looking me dead in the eyes.
He’s not wrong. Why didn’t I go buy myself a laptop? Why haven’t I opened up a single notebook since I’ve been here, I don’t even need to open a blank notebook. I have five that are full of ideas.
“Now since you can’t tell me I’m wrong, finish opening the box, set up the laptop, and go write. If you really want to pay us back, do so, but again it’s no big deal. I bought Logan and Liam each a new car last year. It’s just cementing you as the sixth Jones,” he states as he walks to the sink to rinse out his mug and place it in the dishwasher.
How I got so lucky to have the Joneses as a second family, I’ll never know. What I do know is that I need to step up my gameas a friend to both Summer and Levi, and to Liam, Lincoln, and Lawson.
“Now, I’m headed to pick up Ian and head to JJ’s. I’m taking the truck, but the car keys are hanging by the door. Feel free to take them and go to the coffee shop or whatever to start on your book. I expect a full report on your book tomorrow morning,” he says as he makes his way to his bedroom.
Walking into the coffee shop a few minutes drive away from the house, I spot Lacey working behind the counter right away and send her a small wave. Grabbing a chair in the back corner so I can people-watch and get inspiration for my characters, I take a deep breath, inhaling the caffeine and pastry smell. The place oozes caffeine and sugar.
Taking my laptop, notepad, and pen out of my purse, I get comfy and start looking around. The space has so much going on but somehow everything works. The front is all glass looking out to the street, while the left wall, the one I’m currently leaning against, is all red brick with some black-and-white photos hung here and there, most of smiling couples. The other wall is painted what looks like a soft cream. It’s hard to tell exactly what color it is since most of the wall is covered either by paintings, photos, shelves with vases and nick nacks, or games. The entire place almost has an industrial vibe with the open ceiling and the coffee machines behind the counter that I can only imagine how to use.
Turning to a fresh page in my notebook, I spot a young woman sitting in the opposite corner of me, tucked between the windows and the book shelf. She looks exhausted as she smiles down at the baby in the stroller beside her.
Maybe she’s a single mom, about to meet a hot cowboy.
Or, maybe an ex-military cowboy. OR maybe the father of her child is her brother’s best friend.
Maybe it’s not even her baby. Maybe a niece or nephew? Sibling?
Next thing I know, I have a dozen pages full of notes and ideas, and Lacey is placing a coffee in front of me.
“Is it safe to disturb you?” she asks as she sits down in the chair in front of me. “You looked quite in-the-zone there, missy. I would have brought you coffee when you first walked in, but I didn’t want to interfere.”
“Thank you,” I say graciously; this girl is too observant. I take a deep breath filled with coffee and take a sip. “This is really good! What is it?”
“Vanilla cappuccino with cinnamon mixed in.”
