Page 108 of Totally Shipped
Just when you think this whole thing can’t get more Shakespearean twisty, there’s another bombshell. Brooke has a baby.
There’s another flurry of crying and hugging.
“Hey, Leander, pass me the phone.” Leander had bought a cell phone and we were all currently just sharing the one phone. He gives it to me and I start taking photos. Daisy will want a record of this.
Daisy releases herself from the hug and calls, “One minute,” as she bounces down the steps towards us.
She reaches out for Thea. “Hey, sweet girl, wanna meet Grandma and Grandpa?”
To us, she gives a nervous smile. “Hey, guys. I think maybe I should just hang with the family on my own for a little while—is that OK?”
“Of course!” Rex exclaims. “Makes total sense.”
“We’ll go back to the hotel and chill,” adds Leander. “I’ve got a whole season ofMasterChefto catch up on.”
“How can we support you?” I ask.
She smiles at me so sweetly. “You’re all already doing everything. Obviously, I want Mom and Dad, and Brooke, to get to know you, but we just need a beat first. How about you come back at seven, and we’ll all eat dinner together?”
“Sounds good, macushla,” Killian tells her as the rest of us nod.
I drape the diaper bag over her shoulder and give her a kiss. “I love you, Daisy.”
“Love you too, Gray.” Daisy picks up Thea’s hand and gives us a wave with it. “Say bye to your daddies, Thea.”
“Bye, Thea.” We all wave and make goofy faces.
And she laughs.
“Whoa!” We’re all so excited, Thea laughs again. It’s a magical chuckle of a laugh. I surreptitiously wipe a tear from the corner of my eye.
“Call us if you need anything,” Rex says. “But if not, we’ll see you at seven.”
???
Linda Kaminski.
I have her address from the letter she sent Meemaw. It’s odd, sitting, holding this letter written by Rex’s mom. I don’t know when I last saw a handwritten letter. Maybe never.
I look her up online.
LinkedIn offers me various profiles. So does bankruptcy court.
Hmm.
I do an image search and halfway down the page I know I spot her. Those bright blue-green eyes are unmistakable. I follow the link and see she is the manager of a woman’s shelter in St. Louis.
What the fuck am I supposed to do with this information?
Rex is not going to like me keeping this from him, but I also feel like I need to honor Meemaw’s wishes.
DAISY
The kitchen is large and open and has a huge table surrounded by a dozen chairs. At the moment, only Brooke, Dad, and I are at the table though. Mom is busying herself, making the dinner she intends on feeding everyone later.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sit, Mom? Join us?”
“I can hear perfectly well from here,” she replies, pulling vegetables from the crisper. I can’t tell what’s going on with her. She had given me a swift hug, eyes full of tears, and now it’s like she can’t look at me.
