Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76757 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Please kiss my granddaughter for me. And if I may have one more request? Follow your heart, Delaney. Don’t let my bad decisions affect your future. Live your life. Love like it’s your last day, and live with no regrets. Trust me on this one, they haunt you.
I’ll forever be watching over you, my darling daughter.
Love,
Dad
Dropping the letter to the bed, I wrap both arms around her as she sobs. I hold her until the tears have gone dry, and she’s cried herself to sleep. Carefully sliding out of bed, I turn off the light, and then climb back in beside her, pulling her into my embrace. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now. I’m mad as hell for what they’ve done to us, but more so to her. She’s lived her entire life thinking Tillie was her mother.
It takes me hours to fall asleep, too concerned she’s going to wake up and need me, and I won’t know. I don’t know how to help her through this, but I can guarantee I will love her through it. We will rally around her and give her any and all support that she needs. I make a mental note to call in the troops as I finally drift off to sleep.
Chapter 21
Delaney
I’ve spent the last week going through the motions. I’ve read my father’s letter at least a hundred times. Hell, by this point, I have it memorized. When I woke up from my accident and couldn’t remember anything or anyone, it was scary. As the memories came back, that fear started to fade. This, however, knowing my entire life has been a lie? I hate that it was those years I don’t remember. Why is my brain blocking the only real thing I’ve ever had? Why am I blocking Kent?
I’ve been having more and more flashbacks—or what I assume are memories of our time together. I’m grateful for a glimpse, but I want them all. He’s my anchor in all of this, and when he looks at me, I can see the love in his eyes. When he tells me he loves me, I feel it deep in my soul. I want to say it back. I know it’s been a very short time, but like Dad said in his letter, there is no real limit on when or how you fall in love. He fell in love with my mother, my real mother, Amber, in just two weeks.
Kent’s friends and family have been incredible. I get calls daily asking for Kendrix to come over for playdates. Both Kendall and Mara have invited her over. Reagan stopped by with the boys, and the kids played while she listened to me yammer on about my life. Poor pitiful me. She assured me it was fine. Yesterday, Dawn showed up with Daisy and we went to lunch. They’ve rallied around me.
Today is Friday, and Kent’s mom just called asking Kendrix and me to come over for lunch. I don’t know if she is the Georgia in my father’s letter, but I’m bringing it with me. I plan to ask her and see what she knows. What she can tell me. Maybe she can help fill in the gaps. Kent and I talked about it, and he wanted to call her that next day, but I wasn’t ready. I needed some time to just process all the new information. I’m about five minutes from their place when my phone rings.
“That’s your phone, Momma,” Kendrix tells me from the back seat.
“I know, sweetie. We’re almost to Mamaw and Papaw’s, so I’m going to let it go to voice mail and call them back.” What I don’t tell her is that it’s Tillie. The woman she believes to be my mother, her grandmother. I guess she still is. She’s my stepmother, and I care for her, Kendrix loves her, but I’m angry and confused and I just can’t deal with her right now.
Pulling into Georgia and Gordon’s driveway, I grab my purse and Kendrix’s backpack and help her out of her seat. Hand in hand, we walk to the front door and it opens before we can knock. Georgia is standing there with tears in her eyes. Her arms engulf me in a hug while I hear Gordon ask Kendrix if she wants to see something special. I feel his hand on my shoulder, and the weight of Kendrix’s bag disappears, and then so do they.
“Come in.” Georgia keeps her arm around me and guides me into the house. Kicking off my shoes and hanging up my coat, I follow her into the living room. “Kent called me last night. He said that you’ve been having a tough week. I badgered him until he told me.” She smiles kindly, and it warms my heart. Georgia Baldwin is one of the most genuine people you will ever meet.