Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
“I can get the rest from the cars,” Moffy says, and she nods, vanishing from sight.
I have the most important task, and it has nothing to do with reindeer duties. A little bundled baby is warm and happy in a lavender sling against my chest, and I entertain my niece with side-shimmies and tickles. Cassidy coos and smiles.
I volunteered to babysit, and Donnelly was the first to look surprised.
“I like baby cuddles,” I told him.
“I know,” he said, unwrapping a decorative baby reindeer from a black garbage bag. “Just didn’t think the dads would let someone babysit without a five-minute back-and-forth first.”
Maximoff and Farrow are protective of their kids, I’ve deduced, and I wonder why they let me take care of Cassidy so quickly. Either they trust me enough or they think I need this. As therapy? Baby snuggling therapy? Is that a thing? I hope it’s the former more than the latter.
Because the latter means they think I’m not doing so well, and I feel like I’ve just hopped on a brighter path. With Donnelly.
He’s here as my boyfriend first. Weird.
The best kind of weird.
I smile.
“Daddy!” Ripley races after Moffy to a parked Ford truck. Uncle Ryke usually drives his truck to the lake house during the holidays. Otherwise, I don’t see him use it much, except for the time he helped Moffy move into his college dorm at Harvard.
Most of the provisions for the week are in the truck bed.
Moffy turns around and tries to feign confusion at the giddy little boy. “Who is that?”
“Ripley!” He says his name so well for his age, and the pride on Moffy’s face makes my smile mushroom. I still can’t believe I thought Ripley was my baby when I woke up in the hospital, but times like this, where Ripley’s blue eyes glint in the sun and his hair looks more like Donnelly’s chestnut brown—I think it would’ve been stranger if I didn’t consider it.
“You want to carry something, Rip?” he asks once he’s at the bed of the truck.
“Yes,” Ripley says clearly.
“Here you go.” He snaps off a banana from a bundle. “Take that to Auntie Jane.”
Ripley hoists the banana over his head, waiting for his dad to carry his own load of groceries, and Moffy packs himself down with a case of water, several totes, and the rest of the bananas. They go together to the house, but Ripley makes a detour to…Donnelly.
Moffy stops to wait for his son, and I watch Donnelly take a hesitant step away from the family of reindeer he’s been uncovering from garbage bags. He wipes his hands on his black slacks, and as his eyes flit to me, I wonder if he thinks I’m staring.
I am staring.
I’m just interested in his relationship with my nephew, I guess. OG Luna knew. I only have small glimpses. Barely a peek.
“Here you go,” Ripley repeats what his dad said and tries to hand Donnelly the banana.
Donnelly crouches down. “You brought this for me?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Yes,” he nods now.
Donnelly grins. “Gotta love a boy who knows what he wants.” His eyes flash to me, the smile still in them, and my heart flip-flops. He takes the banana but acts like it weighs twenty pounds. “You carried this heavy thing all the way from over there?”
Ripley smiles. “It’s a nana.”
“I love a nana.”
I laugh, and Moffy is smiling too. And then Ripley hops over to me. “Jump!” he tells me. “Jump!”
I blink, woozy as my head suddenly spins.
“Jump!”
He leap-frogs past me, aimed for Moffy.
I can almost feel the warmth of a living room.
“Jump!”
Donnelly is studying me with more concern, and I wonder if the blood has rushed out of my face. This feels less like an island of memory and more like the melting tip of an iceberg that disappears beneath my feet. I’m plunged into the ocean, struggling to find land, but I take a few deep breaths and try to push past the discomfort in my body.
“You okay?” Moffy asks first.
I nod. “Yeah.”
He checks on Cassidy. “Thanks for watching her,” he tells me for the umpteenth time.
“It’s the best gig,” I sing-song, but the melody sounds a little flat.
Still, Cassidy beams up at me. Moffy seems reluctant to peel away. I think more so because he loves her, less so because he’s worried I’ll fail. At least, that’s what I want to believe. Once Moffy and Ripley are back inside, I head over to Donnelly before he comes to me.
“You remember something?” he asks. “You had that look.”
“It just felt like a memory, but I couldn’t see it.” I shrug, trying not to be disappointed. It’s easy when Donnelly stays more positive.
“No rush,” he says. “You have forever.”
With me, I wish he’d add.
I pretend he does, and I watch as he adjusts a mid-sized reindeer beside the baby. “You’re really good with Ripley.”