Page 152 of Small Town Firsts
She shoved me. “Not funny.”
“A little funny.”
Her lips twitched, but she managed to keep a straight face.
“Aww, come on, Sage.” I hooked an arm around her hips before wrinkling my nose and pulling away. “Sorry, I’m too dirty to be touching you.”
She hauled me in for a hug. “Dusty is part of moving. At least you smell like sunshine. How you doin’, girl?”
“God, I doubt it.” But I hooked an arm around her and hugged her back. When the lump I’d been jamming down my throat and belly started to rise up, I eased away from her. “I’m okay.” At least I would be as long as she didn’t look at me with those big leafy green eyes puddled with tears.
“My mom sent over some food for us.”
“Not diner food?”
She laughed. “Not diner food.”
“God bless her. Though it’s Mother’s Day, she shouldn’t be cooking. And God, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be here helping me on her day.”
Sage waved me off. “We all made her a big French Toast breakfast.”
As Sage spoke, I wandered over to the box half-full of the crocheted blankets my mom used to wear when she sat out here. No matter how warm or cold it was, she was forever bundled under the rainbow patchwork blanket.
That I would keep.
And a few others.
Okay, all of them. I could get rid of most of the junk we’d collected over the last six years, but not those.
Sage pulled the blanket out and buried her nose in the ancient yarn. I had to turn away again and suck in a long, slow breath.
I was not going to cry.
I’d already done that when I’d folded them up the first time. The lavender essential oils she’d been using at the very end had become her scent. As soothing and soft as her tissue paper skin.
My phone buzzed again, distracting me from thoughts better left in the past.
I’d been in denial mode for days. Three of his messages were still on my notifications. Every time I caught a glimpse of them, I flipped my phone over and ignored.
Even swiping them away, I’d have to read something.
Nope and nope.
“Still ignoring him?”
“Hmm?”
“Well, if you don’t want to talk about the house or your mom, then jackass is the next best thing.”
I rolled my eyes as I lifted onto my toes to reach the clock on the wall. Though Sage was all about finding Mr. Right, she thought Seth was an entitled pain in the ass with a cocky attitude. Some of that probably had to do with her even worse opinion of Seth’s brother.
And, yes, Seth was most of those things, but even when he was being a complete jackass, he was still better than most men I knew. There were some rose-colored glasses involved. I could admit that much, but then he went and did things like the flowers.
I fought the urge to touch them again.No.I wasn’t going to dwell.
Instead I brought the clock with me as I crossed the room. Carefully, I tucked the old starburst cabinet between two of the blankets. It might be hideous, but she’d loved the rose-gold clock. We’d moved a few times over the years and it always went with us.
In fact, she’d stolen it from a tacky hotel when I was seven. Back when my dad had still been around. We’d stayed in places like that most of my life until he finally disappeared for good. She’d taken that clock and the fifty bucks he’d left us and we’d driven east until we landed in the middle of New York.
