Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
If she’d let me.
I keep driving, following the directions Felicity gives me as I navigate to her mother’s house. When I pull in the driveway, Felicity turns to face me once more.
“Also, no bringing up how we made out at the actual Christmas party. My mother doesn’t need to know the details.”
I can tell she’s nervous, and I grab both her hands with mine. “Felicity, I don’t plan on giving your mother a play-by-play of that night.”
Felicity blushes as she glances down at our joined hands in her lap. “I just want my mother to believe it was a special night. Not a cheap, drunken night.”
I blink, placing two fingers under her chin to bring her gaze to meet mine. “I wasn’t drunk,” I tell her truthfully. A pain in my chest radiates outward at the thought of Felicity being drunk that night.
“I wasn’t either,” she whispers.
I squeeze her hand. I’m about to tell her how special that night was for me, but we’re cut off by her mother knocking on the passenger side window. “We should go,” I say instead.
Felicity nods, opening the door and greeting her mother.
I’ve met Felicity’s mother a few times in passing over the years. I know she’s in the local book club with many other older women of the community. A few times they’ve come into the brewery to have lunch and discuss a book or two.
The only real conversation I’ve had with Helena Lark was at the grocery store the other day. I don’t a hundred percent know how she feels about her daughter and me having a child.
But I’m about to find out.
I exit the vehicle, putting on a brave face, remembering not to bring up Neil Armstrong or any of the other astronauts I know of.
What I really want to do is put an arm around Felicity as she introduces me to her mother.
“Yes, hello, Helena. Good to see you again.” I shake her hand, not really sure how to greet the soon-to-be grandmother of my child.
Helena nods with a tight smile. “Hello, Shepherd.”
Her greeting is rather cold, but I think I know why. I think she feels like Felicity feels. Like I’m going to bolt the moment the child enters this world.
I’m not.
Helena leads us into her home, and I follow closely behind, taking in the warm, inviting atmosphere that greets us. The hallway is adorned with family photos in elegant frames, capturing moments frozen in time. Among them, I notice several pictures of Felicity when she was younger, each frame telling a different story of her childhood.
In one frame, she's grinning widely, missing front teeth adding to her youthful charm. The photo seems to capture a carefree summer day, with the sun highlighting her tousled hair and freckled cheeks. In another, she's dressed for a dance recital, a shy smile on her face as she stands proudly in her costume. The joy and innocence radiating from these images paint a vivid picture of the girl Felicity once was.
The house itself exudes a cozy elegance, with tasteful décor and comfortable furnishings that blend seamlessly with the family mementos. Soft, ambient light filters through lace curtains, casting gentle patterns on the hardwood floors. The living room features plush sofas arranged around a coffee table adorned with fresh flowers, creating a welcoming space that invites lingering conversations and shared moments.
Helena gestures toward a cozy reading nook tucked by the window, where a well-loved armchair sits next to a bookshelf filled with classics and contemporary favorites. A fireplace anchors the room, its mantle adorned with more family photos and carefully curated knick-knacks that reflect a lifetime of cherished memories.
As we move deeper into the house, I catch glimpses of a spacious kitchen with gleaming countertops and the aroma of something delicious wafting from the oven. Beyond that, I can see a dining area bathed in natural light, set for a family meal and we make our way to the table.
“Everything’s ready. Let me just get the rolls,” Helena says as Felicity takes a seat.
“I can help you,” I say, wanting to give her the best impression of me. Also, my parents raised me with manners, and it’s just a little something I can do to help out.
“No, it’s okay. Please sit. I'll only be a minute.” Helena moves into the kitchen and I take a seat across from Felicity.
“This isn’t so bad, right?” Felicity asks me as she sets her linen napkin into her lap.
“It’s going great. Don’t worry. I only almost brought up the moon landing about four times before I stopped myself.”
Felicity cracks a smile. “Ha ha,” she sasses back at me.
“You have a lovely home,” I say as Helena returns with a small basket of bread rolls.
She smiles wide, her brown eyes, same shade as Felicity’s, shine bright. “Thank you. I worked hard to give my daughter everything I could.”