Page 89 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
She went on detailing how the two of them had connected, and because of me, I ripped them apart.
She was such a damn liar.
“Harper, can you get it?” Hope yelled from the kitchen.
I grunted from my spot on the couch. Whoever it was needed to go away. I wasn’t in the mood to open the door. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself.
The doorbell pealed, followed by another knock.
“For God’s sake, Harper. Open the damn door. My hands are full of cookie dough. Cookies I’m making foryou, by the way.”
I sighed. Getting up and down was increasingly difficult with each week. It was like my body didn’t belong to me anymore. I was only twenty-six weeks along. I could only imagine what I’d be like at thirty-six weeks.
I shoved myself off the couch and shuffled to the entryway. A knock sounded just before I ripped open the door. I glared at the woman standing there. Her eyes widened in surprise, most likely from my sour expression. “Can I help you?”
“Uh, hello. I’m looking for Harper Marris.”
“Who’s asking?” I straightened my spine and crossed my arms under my chest. Was this another damn reporter wanting to interview me?
“I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself first. My name is Dahlia Winston. I work for a local law firm in Providence. We were told to deliver this paperwork to you.” She held out a manilla envelope with a single sheet of paper on the outside. “I just need your signature to verify I delivered them.”
“What is it?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I thought you knew. It’s the paperwork for the house deeded to you.” She held out a pen along with the paper for me to sign this time.
“A house? Who gave me a house?”
Dahlia shrugged. “I’m sorry, Ms. Marris. I’m just the messenger.”
“So if I sign this paper, does it mean I’m accepting this house?”
“No, not at all. I’ll let you read it, but it just acknowledges that I gave you the paperwork. If you choose not to accept, my bosses’ numbers are in there. You can speak to them about it.”
I took the paper from her and read through it. After verifying what Dahlia said, I signed my name and accepted the envelope when she offered it to me.
Tingles spread up and down my body. Did Lincoln have something to do with this? I closed the door after saying goodbye to Dahlia. Leaning against the wood, I let out a heavy sigh, afraid to open the flap to see what was inside.
Hope walked through the doorway from the kitchen into the hall, wiping her hands on a towel. “Who was it?”
I waved the envelope around like a madwoman. “Someone gave me a house.”
“Was it Lincoln?”
“I haven't opened it yet.” Dread curled in my belly. If he’d bought me a house, was he saying he agreed with my father that I should give up my dreams of being a traveling picker? I thought he knew how much that meant to me.
“Oh, for goodness sake. Give it to me if you’re not going to open it,” Hope demanded with an outstretched hand.
I shook my head, and with a quick inhale, ripped off the top of the envelope. My eyes scanned the first page once, then one more time.
He hadn’t bought me a house.
“He gave youhishouse?” Hope whispered incredulously from beside me.
Did he think throwing money at our failed relationship was helping? What was I supposed to do with this house? I flipped through the rest of the pages. The second to last one stated that if I didn’t want the house, I could sell it.
Disappointment flooded my body when I got to the last piece of paper and didn’t see a single word directly from Lincoln. The legal document inside transferred ownership to me with the understanding that I wasn’t to move in until after January 12 due to scheduled renovations.
This was just a business transaction to him. Was he doing this to ease his guilty conscience? Maybe I should sell the house? My heart twisted. I didn't want this house. It was his. He’d bought the home here because it brought him closer to the one good memory of his parents.
