Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“I’ll check on you.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“But I want to. Goodnight, honey.”
“Goodnight.”
I felt like garbage—sore throat, body aches, a fever, congestion that was causing a headache, and a bone-deep sort of exhaustion. But there was a warm, floating feeling in my chest as I drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Owen
By the next evening, it seemed like half of Willa’s family had descended on the house.
When I’d gotten back from work, someone I didn’t recognize—a woman with lilac hair, pale skin, and a long black dress—was walking down the street with Tuna happily prancing alongside her.
One man was in the driveway, hosing out the bins.
Inside, the countertops were full of dishes that, I imagine, had been dropped off by more family members than were currently in the kitchen working on what smelled like chicken noodle soup.
Women’s voices seemed mostly in the kitchen, laundry, and living room, while I could hear male voices in the family room and upstairs.
“Owen!” Willa’s mom greeted me, shooting me a beaming smile.
“Hey, Elsie,” I said. “Guess I didn’t need to bring anything back,” I said, waving the bag in my hand.
“Willa had some pretty bare cabinets. I’m sure it won’t go to waste. What’d you get?”
“The makings for soup. And a few different teas. Though, this is for minestrone, not chicken noodle. Which is the more traditional sick day food.”
“He cooks?” another woman asked.
“This is the contractor too, right?” another woman wondered.
“You didn’t mention how handsome he is,” a third said.
Elsie shot me an “uh oh” wince.
But a fourth woman appeared out of nowhere, taking my bag from me and passing me a cup of hot tea. “Bring this up to Willa for me. She needs to stay hydrated.”
“Bless you,” I murmured, getting a little wink out of the short, slight, dark-haired woman. “I’ll be back,” I announced to the rest before making my way upstairs.
I passed a man in the hallway who was a copy-paste of his father, minus a few years. The brother. He had a wiggly Adelaide in the crook of his arm.
“Owen,” he said, giving me a nod.
“Jackson,” I said giving him a nod back.
“Fair warning, she’s grumpy,” he told me before disappearing down the stairs to, I imagined, let someone else try to coddle Adelaide.
“I hear you’re grumpy,” I said, leaning in the primary bedroom door where Willa was curled under several blankets. Her hair was up in a messy bun, her nose red from blowing, her lids heavy from exhaustion.
“Jackson was being annoying,” she said, pulling herself up against the headboard and giving me a tired smile.
“Brothers can be that way. You have a house full.”
“It sounds like it. Mom has mostly been keeping them downstairs so I can ‘rest.’”
“But it’s hard to rest with a bunch of people in your house.”
“Yeah. Is that for me?” she asked, looking at the tea.
“It is,” I said, handing it to her so I could move the four empty cups already sitting on the nightstand.
“Thank you. It’s the only thing that makes my throat feel better.”
“Bad, huh?” I asked, toeing off my shoes then moving onto the other side of the bed beside her.
“The fever broke, so that’s good. But the sore throat and stuffiness are at their peak. I hope.”
“How’s Adelaide?”
“A lot less fussy with some medicine to keep the fever down and help with the aches. Though she absolutely hates the booger sucker.”
“Can’t blame her for that. Sounds uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, but she immediately breathes better. She’s had two baths and steams today. And nonstop rocking and singing. She’s being so spoiled she’s going to be miserable to go back to just me.”
“Nah. They’re just keeping her distracted from feeling miserable. She’s always going to want you.”
“You should be feeling pretty dejected right now too.”
“Why’s that?” I asked, pulling the covers up over her and tucking them.
“Tuna has fallen more in love with each new person he’s met today.”
“Oh, I have no delusions about my dog. He would lead a burglar to my valuables, help him carry it out, then leave in the van with him. He loves everyone. But that’s what I was looking for in a dog. I saw a goth-looking woman walking him when I drove up.”
“That’s Kit. She’s the one with a farm. And two giant Great Pyrenees dogs of her own.”
“She does not strike me as a farmer.”
“I know, right? She and Ariah used to be travel vloggers. Really popular ones. Then when they got tired of that, they decided to shift into homestead content.”
“Do either of them belong to the short, small, black-haired woman downstairs who saved me from a million questions by sending me up here with tea?”
“That’s my Aunt Janie. And, no. She only has a son. But don’t let her fool you, she’s not asking questions because she already knows everything about you from your shoe size to who you lost your virginity to.”