Page 111 of Growing Into Love

“Did we just Van Der Hoek Slam her again?”

“I think we did.”

“Oh god, stop it you two,” I groan. But I can’t suppress my smile as they high-five each other and Winter picks up her blow-dryer.

“Grab a cape,” she says to me. “When I’m done with Autumn, I’m giving you a blowout. You deserve it.”

THIRTY-TWO

JAZ

The next fivemonths are some of the best of my life.

Cass is by my side. And I’m going to be a dad.

Sure, the family situation is a bit unconventional, but now that I’ve gotten accustomed to the idea, I’ve thrown myself full force into being a father.

Theresa and Craig have officially moved to Great Chumley. It does make things easier to have them close by—we’ve popped round for dinner a few times. Theresa has made several visits to Oak Hill. May and Charles have welcomed her like she’s one of their own. That’s how things are done there, and I know it’s a relief to Theresa to feel so well-received. But Cass is getting more and more stressed as she tries to get her sanctuary off the ground. It seems like every other week, there’s trouble with the lumber, or a shipment gets delayed. Most recently, the rains have been so bad that all construction has stopped.

I know she’s struggling to get it all together before the baby arrives. Time seems to slip by faster with each passing day. Theresa’s belly has swelled up and she’s developed an addiction to cottage cheese. She’s also become increasingly paranoid about anything that could be harmful to the baby, like paint or petrol fumes. Cass has stepped up to help fill her car’s tank or paint the nursery when Craig is on his route or I’m away on a call. She’s such an incredible person. Every day I feel more and more lucky she chose to be with me.

Craig has been a surprisingly pleasant addition to my life. I’ve come around to his sense of humor and he’s got a sharp wit. Since I handle all types of pregnancy in my work, the terminology is familiar and I’m happy to explain things to him in laymen’s terms. We even watch the Liverpool matches together on occasion. Thank god he’s a Liverpool fan—I don’t think I could have stood it if he supported Man U.

I’ve come by Oak Hill today because there’s a rare free spot in my schedule and I wanted to see if Cass needs help with anything. I pass Reggie, taking a wheelbarrow of goat crap out to the manure pile.

“Hi, Jaz,” he says, smiling his classic toothy smile and shaking his hair out of his eyes. “Here to see Cass?”

“I am, indeed,” I say.

“She’s out by the barn,” he says. “Or what’s been built of it so far. Gosh, you’re gonna be a dad huh?”

“Yup,” I say.

“And Declan’s gonna be a dad too.”

“That he is.”

“Maybe Winter will get pregnant and then you all will have kids together,” Reggie says.

I chuckle. “I don’t know about that.” Winter and Virgil are back in London now, but they don’t seem to be in any rush to start a family or even get married for that matter. Not me, though. I would marry Cass today if I didn’t think she’d roll her eyes and tell me I’m getting ahead of myself.

I’ve got a ring though. It’s an old family heirloom on my mum’s side. She’s pleased as punch about me and Cass—she’s known Cass for ages and was delighted to hear we were together. She’s excited to be a gran too. Last time I went for a visit, she showed me some of her grandmother’s things. One was a ring, a pale green sapphire in a simple gold setting. I think she understood what I felt when I saw it, because she pressed it into my hand and told me to keep it.

If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that I want to spend the rest of my life with Cassandra Wright.

It’s quite a walk to the sanctuary spot—Cass chose a huge patch of land on the northwestern edge of the property, past the inn. The barn is still in the construction phase. It’s missing the front wall where the doors should be, and the roof isn’t complete yet.

It rained again overnight and I find Cass in her Wellys, squelching through the mud as she walks the fence line—or rather, where she wants the fence line to be. She’s got long iron rods with neon ribbon tied to them, and she’s jamming them into the soft ground at regular intervals.

“Hey,” I call. “Want some help?”

She beams when she sees me, tramping over to throw her arms around me. “Hi,” she says. There’s grass in her hair and a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

“How’s it going?” I ask.

Cass sighs. “The barn was meant to be completed by now. This fucking rain.” She glowers up at the cloudy sky. “And of course, Fred Mulligan screwed up my order so I’ve got a ton of hay sitting up at Oak Hill because I don’t have a place to put it. Dec’s getting frustrated. And then there’s the fence.” She jabs a rod into the earth like it personally offended her.

“Let me help,” I say, taking the rods and carrying them as we walk the line where Cass plans to put up the fence.

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