Page 58 of All You Need Is Love

Chapter 13

She had nothing left.

Clutching the baseball-shaped pillow, Shannon curled up on the full bed in her guest room—the room she’d hoped would one day belong to a little blondie who loved the Dodgers.

After forcing herself back into the wedding scene earlier tonight, she’d done her best to enjoy the rest of Ben and Bella’s evening, but all she could picture was the disappointment on her parents’ faces.

And Marshall, leaving.

Finally, when the cake had been cut, she’d slipped away and come straight here, not even bothering to change out of her bridesmaid’s dress. The gauzy lavender material of the gown’s full skirt pooled around her feet, which were tucked up in a fetal position. Lucky licked her bare toes from his spot at the end of the bed.

The doorbell rang and Lucky’s ears perked up. Who would be visiting at—Shannon checked the clock on the beat-up old dresser—ten thirty-five pm? Rolling over, she faced the wall, effectively shutting out the world and the half-finished room with half-painted blue walls and half-planted dreams.

She’d had such grand plans for this room. For her life.

But now? Those plans were toast if Noah’s mom got custody of him again. And based on the questioning text Shannon had sent Noah’s social worker and Miranda’s response, it sounded as if that were quite possible.

Supposedly, Julie had never formally given up custody of Noah, just asked her mother to watch him for an extended period of time. Then, she hadn’t heard about Mary going into the memory care facility because the phone number her mother had in her own phone was old. That had also made it difficult for Miranda to find her and let her know Noah was in foster care. According to the social worker, Julie had been in AA for a year and had been planning to come back to get Noah once she had worked her program and was fully established in her new career.

There went the doorbell again. This time, Lucky bounded from the bed and ran into the hallway, his paws thundering down the stairs toward the front door. He gave a bark and then was silent. Someone—obviously with a key—spoke to him in low tones. Couldn’t her family just leave her alone? Shannon rarely wallowed, but wasn’t she allowed the privacy to do it if she wanted to? Needed to?

She squeezed the pillow tighter, letting the tears come.

The light flicked on overhead and someone sat down behind her on the bed. “Hey, cuz.”

Ashley.

Without saying anything else, her cousin spread out beside Shannon and held her while Shannon’s tears soaked the pillow. Ashley stroked her hair and hummed low and slightly off pitch.

Okay, maybe it did feel better to wallow when someone was there to comfort her.

Shannon turned back over and Ashley sat up, taking Shannon’s hand and squeezing it. “You okay?”

“No.”

Her cousin’s eyes crinkled with concern. She too was still in her dress, the light purple contrasting well with her tan skin, the straps dainty against her well-defined shoulders. “Tyler said you needed me.”

“Did he tell you what happened?” Her voice creaked like rusty gate hinges.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not what you think. I wouldn’t do that to my sister.”

Another squeeze to her hand. “I know. Quinn told Tyler what was really going on.”

“She did?” Shannon sat up and braced her back against the wall.

Ashley settled next to her. “Why didn’t you tell me about Marshall?” She rubbed her dangling sparkly earrings. “I thought we told each other everything.”

Shannon’s body tensed, but she forced it to relax. It would do no good to tell Ashley how hypocritical her comment was after she’d eloped without a word until after the fact. “Sorry.”

Frowning, Ashley’s eyes scanned the room—from the blue comforter still in the bag to the bucket of paint sitting on newspaper in the corner, the dresser Shannon had started to refinish, and the chair rail strips sitting flush against the far wall.

“Noah is one lucky kid, you know that, Shan?” Ashley bumped her shoulder against Shannon’s. “I know you said the interview didn’t go well, but—”

“Stop.”

Her cousin looked at her, eyes dazed. “What’s wrong?”

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