Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Now, we have Dawson Zachary Llewellyn and—”
“Wait.” Eric made a startled sound, complete with a comical jaw drop. “His legal name isn’t Diesel?”
“Flo won the name battle.” I grinned, although, at the time, I’d been rather irked that she hadn’t wanted any input from me beyond demanding a paternity test. “I won the name war. D-Z-L. He was three or four the first time he noticed his initials and tried to sound them out. From then on, he called himself Diesel, just like his favorite train on a kids’ show. I rolled with it.”
“I see.” A small smile tugged at Eric’s lips.
A smile that promptly vanished as the judge herself, a stately woman with silver hair and a thick pearl necklace peeking out of her judicial robes, entered the courtroom from her chambers. The ceremony was over so quickly that I forgot to ask the clerk to take a picture of the four of us, but I did get a few candid snaps of Maren and Diesel that I could send to them later.
After the ceremony, Eric and I had to sign as witnesses. His hand shook so badly that I had to repress the urge to rub his back to help him calm down. And then that was that, only an awkward lunch to make it through. The staff at The Heist knew Diesel and Maren well, of course, and Casey, one of my favorite servers, doted on all four of us, bringing Maren a lemonade as soon as we were seated and ensuring Diesel had extra fries.
Luckily, Maren and Diesel carried the conversation, full of big ideas for a larger wedding at some point after the baby arrived.
“We could do it at the botanical gardens like you and Doctor Dad,” Maren suggested to Eric. “Or would that be too weird doing it at the same place?”
This whole thing was weird, but to his credit, Eric merely mumbled, “Wherever you both want with adequate seating. All our friends will want to be there, especially when they get wind they missed today.”
“And all our friends as well.” I nodded at Diesel. “The restaurant can likely handle the catering—”
“I’ll help with the expense,” Eric added.
My impulse was to wave away the offer, but the man was nothing if not prickly and proud. Instead, I offered him a cheeky grin. “I’ll make sure the smashed potatoes are on the menu for you and Maren.”
“It’s strange to think the baby will be here by then.” Maren idly stirred her lemonade with the straw as her voice trembled. “So much is going to change between now and then.”
“But what’s not going to change is that you have a lot of people who love you and are ready to help.” Where Maren had sounded doubtful, Eric was surprisingly certain, almost like her worries had caused him to think beyond his own for a few moments.
“And it’s fun to dream big about the wedding, but it’s also okay to simply stay in the present,” I added. I planned to take my own advice because thinking about impending grandparenthood made me feel older by the minute. “One day at a time.”
“One burger at time.” Diesel grinned until Maren grinned back.
Whatever that brief attack of doubts had been, they both left the lunch in high spirits, headed to quickly pack a bag for their country bed and breakfast adventure. And Eric was off to his shift, which left me to handle business at The Heist, in no hurry to head to an empty house. I paid my neighbor’s thirteen-year-old for help with the dogs over summer break, so I sent a fast text before the dinner rush to make sure Shelby checked the food and water.
While my phone was out, I sent the few pictures I’d snapped to Maren, but a large corporate party distracted me from pocketing the phone. I accidentally left it in my small office at the back of The Heist for most of the evening, not noticing its absence until Casey came rushing over.
“Magnus! Your house is on fire!”
Chapter Eight
Eric
Midway through my shift, my old bones had yet to warm up from the frigid courtroom where Maren and Diesel had been married. Married. My brain continued to race, anxiety undoubtedly contributing to my chilled feeling. And listening to them talk about the baby and plans for a big wedding hadn’t helped matters. In fact, the one moment I’d felt remotely like myself was when Maren had seemed overwhelmed. Funny how I could easily slide into first responder or dad mode to reassure others, but
I couldn’t seem to calm myself.
Our ambulance crew shared space with the firehouse near the hospital in Mount Hope, which meant seeing my firefighter friends frequently. Usually, I didn’t mind the proximity, but when Sean came strolling into the station’s kitchen where I was nursing a cup of coffee, I inwardly groaned.