Page 152 of Could Have Been Us
I’m eating a bowl of soup, staring at Kinsley and Samuel as Jack shows them around. I’m still in shock. He wasn’t working, he was in Georgia picking them up. I don’t think there are enough words to describe how much I love this man.
They come down from the loft area, and Jack’s eyes are warm. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m not really sure I can explain how I’m feeling.”
He walks over and presses his lips to my temple. “Good.”
I dip my bread into the soup until the bread is gone. I regret that wine now, but I never would’ve guessed this would be how the night went.
Kinsley sits beside me, and I nudge her. “How long are you here for?”
“The weekend. Jack said Daddy and I can stay here for a few days.”
“He did?” I ask, eyeing him.
“I did. Samuel is going to go fishing with me tomorrow, so I thought maybe you and Kinsley could spend some time together.”
I could cry. I could literally throw myself into his arms, sob for days, and still feel overwhelmed by him. Instead, I bite my lower lip and nod. “I’d like that.”
Kinsley speaks up. “I need a dress.”
“A dress? For what?”
She looks to Jack, panic in her eyes. “Umm . . . for something.”
And then, even in my wine-addled mind, I piece it all together. Jack is going to propose, and he went out of his way, driving hours to go get the one person I would want to be here.
Jack is going to get one hell of a reward.
I look at Kinsley. “It’s hard to get a dress forsomething. You need to be specific so I know where to take you.”
“Right!” Kinsley laughs nervously. “It’s a bat mitzvah for my best friend.”
Shit. Maybe I’m wrong then.
“Oh! I went to a few of those when I was your age.”
“My friend, Lana, is having hers next month. I was going to go shopping with my mom, but . . .”
Misty died.
“Of course I’ll take you,” I say quickly. “Tomorrow we’ll head a few towns over. There are a few stores I like, and if you don’t find anything, we could head to Charlotte.”
Heck, I’d head to the moon if it would make her happy.
“I’m going to turn the grill on,” Jack announces. “Would you help me, Samuel?”
“Sure.”
The boys head out, leaving me and Kinsley here. “Is this weird?” she asks as soon as they’re gone.
“A little. What about for you?”
She looks out the back door to where, essentially, both her fathers are. “Yes, but Dad seems to be really okay with it. I asked him a few times because I don’t want him to get upset and then want to drink again.”
“None of us want that.”
“I know, but I’m worried.”
