Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
It’s like that Sliding Doors movie.
I stepped into that closet as one woman and stepped out another, a version of Eloise Thibodeaux with a shinier, easier life. A life where I don’t have to fight for an Uber in the Friday night rush. A life where a very kind (very handsome) and shockingly down-to-earth guy has my back.
Grammercy is even more amazing than I imagined he would be, and I’ve done my fair share of fantasizing about this man. But the way he listens? The way he seems to care about the struggles of a complete stranger? The way he smiles, like he means it.
Like he genuinely thinks I’m funny…
Hell, I may need to have my heart checked while we’re at the hospital. I’m pretty sure the force of this man’s sweet, sexy grin has done permanent damage to my aorta.
Even the way he drives is perfect.
He drives like he plays hockey, controlled but fluid, confident without being cocky. His hands rest on the steering wheel like they belong there, and every few seconds, he glances my way, monitoring my emotional state along with the traffic.
And how is my emotional state, you may ask?
Frantic, but not losing my mind with worry, which is kind of crazy.
Usually, I would have WebMD-ed my way into a panic attack by now. I’ve done intensive research on juvenile arthritis. But every time Mimi ends up spiking a sudden fever or developing a new co-morbidity, it’s like I’m back at square one, scared and desperately searching for a reason to believe my baby is going to be okay.
And yes, Mimi is still top of mind—I won’t be anything close to resembling okay until I’m with her—but another part of my mind is replaying that moment in the closet. The one where Grammercy caught me as I fell and pulled me against him.
The way his hands lingered on my waist as his gaze dropped to my lips flickers on repeat on my mental screen, making me keenly aware of how close we are right now.
How good he smells…
How much I want to bury my face in his neck and memorize the scent of his cedar and sea air cologne…
Get it together, woman. Your daughter is in the hospital with a fever that could fry an egg.
Valid, Inner Voice, I acknowledge. So valid.
I’m already in the middle of a shame wave when my phone buzzes against my thigh, finishing the job of jolting me back to reality.
Nancy: She’s doing better! After the IV meds, her fever is down to 102. She’s still asking for her mama, but the pain seems to be backing off, too.
Elly: Thank God! Tell her I love her to the moon and back, and I’ll be there soon. I got a ride from a nice guest at the party, so I didn’t have to fight for an Uber downtown.
Nancy: Good! Drive safe, and I’ll let Mimi know her mama is getting close. She’ll be so happy.
“Mimi’s fever is coming down,” I say, breath rushing out as I sag into the seat, letting my phone flop back into my lap. “My babysitter said the IV meds are already working.”
“That’s great news,” Grammercy says. “But I’m not surprised. I’ve heard good things about the Children’s Hospital. We’re lucky to have such a great place for NOLA kids to get help.”
“As long as they take your insurance.” The words come out sharper than I intended, and I immediately feel like an ungrateful jerk. After all, I still have good insurance. For now… “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound bitter or ungrateful.”
“You don’t,” he says, eyes locking with mine as we pause at a red light. “You sound like a mom who loves her kid and hates that the world is so fucking unfair sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Thanks,” I say, touched. And yes, a little tingly.
But damn…he gives some electrifying eye contact.
I’m almost glad when the light turns green, and I can breathe easier again as he focuses on the road.
In just a few minutes, we leave the familiar chaos of the French Quarter behind, heading into the Garden District. Grammercy’s sleek car speeds past sprawling mansions with yards overflowing with oak trees and secrets.
You can feel the ghosts in this part of town, but I kind of like it. Knowing how fraught our city’s past has been makes me feel less alone. People have always struggled in NOLA. But people have also risen and triumphed and changed things for the better. People have partied and danced and laughed in the streets with the people they love, and that’s part of the spirit that haunts New Orleans, too.
Dark and light. Love and hate.
Hope and despair…
We have it all, and I love that about my hometown. It’s why I’ll probably never leave, no matter how hard things get. I’m a part of this land, this city, the spirit of the place where the bayou meets the sea.