“Girl after my own heart,” Fletcher says.
I chuckle and reach for the bowl full of scrambled eggs.
“So I found the woman I saw at the bar,” I tell Fletcher.
“How? Did you go hunting for her?” he asks on a laugh.
I elbow him. “No, I went to the Paxton Flower Shop to get my mom some flowers, and she was there.”
“Shopping?” Fletcher asks.
“No, she’s Francesca Crawford’s niece.”
“So she has ties here,”Fletcher says.
I nod and take a bite.
“What are you going to do?”
I glance at him and take a sip of coffee. “I’m going to buy more flowers.”
Fletcher throws his head back and laughs. “I have a feeling you’re about to spend a lot of money on flowers.”
“Well, I need to know if she’s with someone…” I say, trailing off.
Fletcher takes a sip of coffee. “Fair enough, or you could just ask her.”
I glare at him, and Naomi hops up next to me on the bench at the giant dinner table. “What are you up to, princess?” I ask her.
She sets her plate, complete with cinnamon roll, scrambled eggs, and a few slices of bacon, next to mine.
“I’m going to eat. I told you I was famished.”
Fletcher chuckles.
I reach for a slice of her bacon, and she slaps my hand. “Get your own!” she says.
“You tell him, Naomi,” Aunt Dixie says.
I raise my hands in supplication. “Sorry, sorry.”
Naomi glowers at me, then goes back to her breakfast. She kicks her little legs and wiggles in her seat as she eats. Whenever I see her do something amazing, or learn, or be brave when I can tell she’s scared, I can’t help but wonder if Rebekah knows she’s missing this. Naomi is turning into a wonderful little girl, and I’m proud to be her uncle. I would think Rebekah would be proud to be her mother too. Wherever she is…
She told me she was sober when she was pregnant with Naomi, and I thank God for it every day. But once she came into the world, Rebekah struggled to stay focused on what matters. There are days when I wonder if her struggle with alcohol won, and I’ll be left questioning if we’ll ever see Rebekah again.
After Naomi finishes eating, she hops off the bench and runs to the living room to start working on whatever Aunt Dixie has set up for her today. I watch her from my seat at the table and smile. She reminds me every day that this is all worth it.
Chapter 9
Mae
“Callmeifyouneed anything, okay?” Aunt Francesca says, pulling me in for a hug.
“I will,” I mutter into her shirt, trying to ignore the cold sweat breaking out over my skin.
“You’re sure about this?” Uncle Leo asks again. He’s been mad at Aunt Francesca because he thinks she trapped me, and he’s not entirely wrong.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I tell him, with as much fake confidence as I can muster.
