“He’s old.”Monroe’s eyes widen.
“He is.”I smile at Leighton, who has the look of a mom who is embarrassed by her child.“And Vera really loves him.”
Monroe scoots closer to me.“She’s not as good as Mae,” she whispers.
Leighton’s cheeks are completely red, and next to her, Callie is laughing.
“Well, she tried her best, right?”
Monroe nods, and next to her, Hazel agrees with a nod of her own.
“Let’s see how I do.”I cringe and show the book to everyone.The pages creak as if the book hasn’t been opened in a really, really long time.“This is one of my favorites, and I really hope it will become one of yours too.”
I start to readThe Little Engine That Could,and all the kids quiet down, as if they’re used to being here and know my grandma’s rules that you will be excused if you ruin the enjoyment for anyone else.
After the first two pages, I get more comfortable, crossing my legs and making the voices as different as I can.How can I fall into a book all over again, one that I’ve read so many times and relived in my head over and over again?
But as I finish the last page, a tear slips free and runs down my cheek.
I forgot how easily books give me the warm fuzzies.
As I look at the small gathering of kids, who seem just as exhausted from the story and not quite ready to run off yet, I realize I have to keep this place going.For these little ones.And the ones who will come after them.
But to do that, I’m gonna need a husband.
Only one person comes to mind—Easton Bailey.
The problem is he’s about as pro-marriage as I am, so I’ll have to give him a reason to say yes.
Lucky for me, trading favors isn’t exactly unfamiliar territory for us.
The kids leave, and Honor helps me check out a few of the customers.After that rush, it’s back to being dead again.
Honor slides up to the counter and glances at her watch.“I have to go in five to cover for the nurse.”
“Oh, I feel horrible.How is Grandma doing?”
Honor waves her hand.“Same as last time.I’d rather hear from you.So… what did Mae’s letter say?”
I lean against the wall.“She gave a convincing argument, which I assumed.”
“Top that with you crying after reading the book.
“I wasn’t crying.”
“You were crying.”
I shake my head.
Her phone vibrates, and she takes it out of her purse, her two thumbs running over the screen.“Grandma’s friends’ text thread should be made into a book.One of them just commented on their own garden picture, not realizing she posted that yesterday, and it’s her garden.”She shakes her head.
“How are you on it?”
“Because my grandma can’t keep up with it, and she doesn’t want to either.I’m herCliffsNotes.”
I nod and give her a sad smile that I’m sure doesn’t help her.
“So back to you.”She’s always so quick to not talk about her grandma, which I get.It takes up her entire life.
