Page 56 of The Bonus

“What is it?”

“A memory box.”

“What’s that?” I frown.

“You know, like a cute little box that you put memorabilia in for your pregnancy. Your ultrasound pictures and any little notes or cards you get along the way.”

“I don’t want a memory box.”

“Why not?”

“Because the way I’m feeling, all I want to write in it is how this is all so unfair and I don’t want my child . . .”

“Children.” Deb cuts me off.

“Ugh, children to ever find out that I was crushing on my boss. They can never know about Gabriel and our one-night stand.”

“You are not fatal attraction.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

I sip my coffee, annoyed that she’s right, I am so overdramatic at the moment, I can feel myself doing it but can’t seem to stop.

“Fine, I’ll buy you two. One for the kids to find with all the cute fluffy stuff, and the other memory box a dumping ground for your heartbreak crap.”

“Why would I want a dumping ground for my heartbreak?”

“It will be therapeutic to write everything down and when you’re past this stage of your life and happily in love, you can throw this one out. Nobody will ever know…and the kids will still have their fluffy feel-good memory box to look through.”

“Maybe.” I sigh, distracted.

“Every time you put something in the happy memory box, you need to put something in the dumpster fire box.”

I smile, something about that name tickles my fancy. “We’re calling it a dumpster fire box?”

“Why not? Your love life is a complete dumpster fire, let’s be honest,” she mutters dryly.

I giggle and hold my coffee cup up to cheers her. “You’ve got that right.”

The afternoon glow begins to bounce off the water and I smile. My favorite part of the day is here. I grab my notepad and pen and slide the glass door open. “You coming out, Buds?” I call.

My toffee-colored fluffball comes toddling down the stairs, life is bliss, I have a dog now. Buddy is the cutest thing that I never knew I needed. I went to the shelter to get a puppy and came home with an old man, not that I’m complaining, he’s perfect in every way. We wander down the stairs and sit.

The sun setting over the lake is magical and one of the main reasons I bought this house. Although small and quaint, my home is like a fairy tale, filled with character and to-do projects. It’s a renovator’s delight.

My dream home.

As soon as I saw it I knew that I had to make it mine. Three acres of land situated on a point of the lake with one-hundred-and-eighty-degree water views on three sides. There’s a long, sweeping driveway lined with the most beautiful oak trees you have ever seen, and one day I’ll save up enough money to do a proper drive; for the moment it’s dirt road.

At the front of the house is a sweeping veranda, a separate garage, and a garden, then the back of the house is all glass. It’s like a Swiss chalet with the upstairs inside the shingle roof with beautiful arbor windows.

But the real magic of the house is the private wharf.

My very own private piece of paradise. You walk out of my back sliding glass doors and onto the veranda, down six steps, and then I’m on the wharf looking straight over the lake.

I have a deck chair and I sit out here every afternoon and watch the sun set over the water. For now I drink tea, but I can imagine having an afternoon glass of wine while the children play.

I put my hand protectively over my stomach. I’m six months pregnant.

And life is good.

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