Page 97 of The Hardest Part

He jumped up and ran after her.

“I got you.” Rubbing her back, Jake held up her hair while Emily vomited, holding onto the commode for dear life. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She threw up some more. “Ugh, this is so gross.”

Billy knocked on the door. “She all right?”

“Yes,” he said.

“No,” she countered.

“C’mon, let’s get you over to the sink.” Jake helped her rinse out her mouth, and after looking through the vanity drawer, hehanded her a toothbrush and smoothed her hair. “Emily, do you think you might be—”

“No, I’m not pregnant.” She sniffled, wiping off mascara from her face. “I had my period a couple of weeks ago, remember?”

He did.

“Must be Grams’ cider or maybe it’s all the shit I ate making the food this morning.”

“You feel better now?” Jake held her and kissed her forehead.

Blowing out a breath, Emily nodded. “I’m sorry.”

It’s going to happen soon, michante. I feel it in my bones.

He’d dreamt of a little girl with long, dark hair and golden eyes. They called her Lucy.

“Did I ever tell you which story is my favorite of them all?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Ours.” He gazed at the woman he’d love for the rest of his life. “And it isn’t over yet.”

A few weeks later.

She was going to absolutely burst.

Emily scrambled to her car, squealing like a kid on Christmas morning, and Christmas was still a week away. She had to tell someone besides Billy and Jake. They already knew, of course, but she wasn’t ready for anyone else to know yet except her mama.

Or it could be bad luck, right?

Maybe not, but she wasn’t going to take any chances.

By the time Emily pulled into her mother’s driveway, she was practically bouncing in her seat.

She skipped up the familiar porch steps, shaking her head at the pots of dead flowers flanking the doors. Next spring, she and Billy would plant her new ones. Because sure as shit, she knew her mama never would.

In every color of the rainbow, Mama. You gotta have some in your life.

Emily worried about her, especially now that she was married and her mother was alone.

The living room was empty. No laptop. No ledgers strewn about the coffee table like she’d expect to find. She checked hermom’s office, which she rarely used. The kitchen. If it weren’t for her Jeep in the driveway, Emily would have thought she wasn’t home.

“Mama?” She tiptoed down the hallway. It didn’t feel right to make noise with the house being so quiet.

The bedroom door was ajar.

Her hand poised, Emily was just about to knock when she heard it.

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