Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Fee hides a smile behind her glass of soda.
Seems like that torch Tally has been carrying since high school is still burning brightly.
“How bad was the haircut?” Portia asks.
“So bad,” Rix replies.
“So, so bad. He looked like he’d gone a round with a weed eater and lost,” Essie adds.
“And then my mom came home.”
“You must have been in so much trouble,” Isabelle whispers.
Rix snorts a laugh. “My mom thought it was hilarious. It was Flip’s fault for encouraging me. After that, she taught me how to use the electric trimmer. He looked like a tennis ball for his photos. Ironically, or probably unsurprisingly, he rocked that buzz cut.”
Essie nods her agreement. “That was the year Flip got cute.”
“The girls were relentless after that.” Rix rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “He kept the buzz cut until winter, and then grew his hair back because Canadian winters aren’t kind.”
“Amen to that,” Hammer agrees.
Connor’s sister jumps in with a story of her own. “Portia and I tried to cut each other’s bangs once, too. Except our hair was dry.”
“Oooh, that’s a rookie mistake,” I say with empathy.
“It was so bad.” Isabelle turns to Portia. “Yours were better than mine.”
She grips her sister’s hand. “True, and I’m still sorry.”
“Remember when we begged Connor to help us fix it?” Isabelle smiles.
“He laughed so hard at us.”
“We deserved it.” Portia’s smile is wide. “But he brought us a whole pile of scarves and made us promise not to tell you he’d aided and abetted,” Portia explains to Courtney.
“Is that why he needed all of those scarves?” Meems slaps her thigh and laughs.
“Oh my goodness, Connor got them from you?” Portia’s jaw drops.
“That makes so much sense now,” Isabelle adds.
“How old were you girls? Junior high maybe?” Meems asks.
“I was grade seven. You were going into eight.” Isabelle looks to her sister for confirmation.
“That’s right. I was so worried I wouldn’t have bangs for picture day in the fall.” Portia nods.
“Don’t you remember the trunk full of old clothes you girls used to play with when you were young?” Meems smiles.
“It was the only thing you girls wanted to do when we went to see Meems,” Courtney says. Even she seems caught up in the memories.
“You’d dress Connor up,” Meems adds.
Isabelle and Portia laugh. “The things he tolerated.”
“You made dresses out of the scarves, and then he’d have to untie all the knots for you,” Meems says. “That day of the bangs disaster, he drove over, picked them up, and said he’d be back later to explain.”
“That’s right! He didn’t have his G2 license yet, but he took the car anyway,” Isabelle says.
Courtney blanches. “That’s why he took the car?”
The humor in Portia’s voice disappears. “He got in so much trouble for that.”
“He never told on us, though.” Isabelle shares a look with her sister. “He just accepted the punishment.”
“Which was what?” I ask.
“He’d been offered a placement at a hockey program in Sweden, but that was the summer he went to the Hockey Academy instead,” Portia replies.
“Ah. Well, he’s still close with those guys, and look where he is now. Seems like it worked out in the end,” I say, trying to lighten the suddenly somber mood. I’ve just opened their eyes, and hopefully they’ll start to see Connor differently, just like I have since I became his fiancée. He’s damaged, but he’s loyal, even when he’s the one who gets hurt.
Meems, bless her amazing, but overworked heart, asks to go home shortly after that because she’s tired. Courtney tells me to leave the gifts, and she’ll have them delivered to the house for us.
The girls all hug me, whispering words of encouragement, and Lexi, Hemi, Meems, and I climb back into Lexi’s car. I’m sure my Babe chat will be blowing up later, but we spend the car ride back to Grace Manor talking wedding stuff.
“That was a good thing you did,” Meems says a little while later as I get her settled in her favorite chair in the guesthouse.
“I just want to open their eyes, so they see the same Connor we do,” I explain.
“You’re doing a wonderful job of that.” She squeezes my hand.
“Thank you. It means a lot to hear that from you.”
I leave Meems to rest and cross through the breezeway into the mansion, planning to stop in my room so I can check on Dewey and change before I go in search of Connor.
As soon as I enter my room, Dewey makes excited snuffling noises. He’s popular with the staff, and they’re more than happy to spend time with him while I’m at work. I open the cage and pick him up, cuddling him.
“How’s my cute baby?” I kiss his little face while he squirms and smile when I catch a hint of Connor’s cologne. “Has someone else been giving you snuggles?”