Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
That was Maisie. Driving with all the windows down, her music so loud you couldn’t hear her belting it out along with the chorus. She’d sing one in three words correctly. I’d told her countless times that she should learn the songs, but she’d only smiled and said she liked her versions better.
“Finally,” my mother said from where she was dusting books.
“I bet she’s been shopping. That Main Street has some great stores I’ve had my eye on, but I told her to wait for me and you so we could all go together.” Mom glanced to Kane. “Maisie isn’t great at waiting.”
She said it fondly, with a smile and warmth that made my stomach prickle. There it was. That familiarity that mom and Maisie had.
Not that mom ever played favorites—Maisie was just more accessible to her.
When the music cut off, I stood, holding my breath.
The front door slammed shut, then the clang of a heeled boot on my floor along with the jangle of bracelets announced her arrival.
Maisie looked like a Maisie. She was the day to my night. Her blonde hair was always in wild curls or a messy braid or a ponytail half falling out.
She always had on big earrings, sundresses with cowboy boots, skirts, anything feminine and flowy, really. My sister wouldn’t be described as a ‘hippy’ exactly, but she was definitely alternative, and she had only gotten more so as we’d grown, most especially after we lost our father.
Part of my ‘rebellion’ was being more serious, regimented and reserved while my mother and sister blossomed into their carefree existences.
A jealous, ugly part of me hadn’t wanted Kane to meet Maisie. Not only was she younger and objectively more beautiful, it wasn’t her appearance that threatened me. I knew Kane wasn’t as superficial as all that; he’d been with plenty of women who were clearly prettier than me—Victoria’s Secret models, for God’s sakes. No, it wasn’t Maisie’s appearance, it was her spirit. Even though she was a mother of two, even though she’d spent a good majority of her motherhood as a single mother, she had a unique lightness to her. She was a wanderer, a magnificent free spirit.
If someone had to match up two people, it would likely be Kane and Maisie instead of Kane and me.
Yes, these thoughts were utterly illogical, but I couldn’t help but have them. I’d crafted an identity of being one of the most impressive and successful people in my field. I’d been recognized globally, making me confident in many ways. Yet my baby sister always made me feel insecure.
“Oh my god, you’re glowing!” she cried when she appeared in the door, a huge smile on her face. She was on me in three long-legged strides. Though she knew I wasn’t a hugger, she did what she always did when she saw me, pulling me into her arms.
And like always, she smelled of vanilla and violets.
She gave me a squeeze, a kiss on the cheek, then looked down. “You’re carrying very low; it won’t be long now.” Her hands went to my belly, stroking gently. “Hello, little niece. I’m so excited to meet you.”
“I’m getting an induction,” I blurted instead of any kind of greeting, not asking about my own niece and nephew. It was rude, and I didn’t know why I did it, but I had to get it out in the open before her or my mother had any grand ideas about home births or tinctures or whatever it was they thought was better.
Maisie’s brow dimpled but she stayed silent. Nonetheless, I knew what she was thinking.
“I don’t need to let nature or my body do its thing,” I told her.
“I didn’t say anything.” Her hands were still on my belly. She wasn’t shy about physical affection.
My eyes ricocheted back-and-forth between hers. “Yes, but you’re thinking all sorts of things. And I’m telling you right now, I trust my doctor and modern medicine, and I like knowing I have a plan. I don’t want you making me feel guilty because I shouldn’t be messing with my body’s process or whatever.”
Maisie’s expression softened. “Oh, honey, there is so much guilt baked into motherhood that I wouldn’t dream of adding to that pie.” She rubbed my bump once more before turning to Kane.
“You’re Kane,” she said, hands on her hips.
“And you’re Maisie,” he replied, an easy grin tilting his mouth.
She gave him a quick once-over, not even trying to hide it. Then she looked back at me. “He’s hot.”
“He’s within earshot,” I informed her.
“He’s also likely seen a mirror,” she countered. “So he knows he’s hot. And it means good things for your child, because you’re hot too. Not that her worth is tied to her looks.”
I rolled my eyes good naturedly at my sister.
Her face turned serious as she looked back to Kane. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “For calling my mom, for bringing us here and braving her wrath.” She jerked her head to me “We would’ve been heartbroken if we missed this.”