Chapter Twelve
Felicity sliced another orange and placed one half in the juicer. The methodical slice, juice, repeat offered her a chance to think through what, exactly, she needed to say this morning. Now that Honor had everything she needed for college, Charity had some proper maternity clothes, and she’d been coerced into purchasing something silky that would probably reside in the back of her underwear drawer, it was time to get back to reality. Jack was forever family and he’d be coming home, to their home, tomorrow. That was reality.
Honor would take it in stride.
Nick. Nick was going to have a hard time.
Her parents had taken a regular time slot at Jack’s bedside and, once their replacements arrived, they were heading from the hospital to the house for support. Now that Jack had been cleared to come home tomorrow, she had some work to do. Every night for the last week she’d been packing up boxes and putting them in the attic. After careful consideration, she’d decided to turn her craft room into a nursery. Having it on the third floor, next door to her room, would spare Honor and Nick some of Jack’s late-night tantrums. She hoped.
It would be an adjustment. For all of them.
“Oh my God, that smells incredible.” Charity opened the oven door and peeked inside. “Breakfast casserole and orange sticky buns?”
“Mom and Dad are joining us.” Felicity smiled at her sister.
“Thanks for the warning.” She shot her a look, tugging her oversize T-shirt and running a hand over her sloppy bun.
“You look fine, Charity.” Felicity’s quick inspection of her sister showed no signs of her secret pregnancy. Which was good. Selfishly, she wasn’t ready for that information to come out.
Not today anyway. Today was about Jack.
“Says you,” Charity groaned. “You know Mom.”
Felicity smiled. She did indeed. And chances were, their mother would say something about Charity’s choice of attire. And her hair. And her lack of makeup. Their mother was old-school, meaning “faces on,” presentable hair, and “real” clothes on before eight every day—no exceptions. That way they were ready for unexpected company or the need to go on some surprise outing.
“You have time to go change.” Felicity laughed, the distress on her sister’s face pathetic but comical.
“Oh right, then she’ll say something about me not helping out in the kitchen.”
Felicity shot her a look.
“Well, I know I didn’t do anything. And you know I didn’t do anything. But if she knows…” Charity wrinkled up her face.
“Who knows?” Honor asked as she entered the kitchen. “Mmm,” she said, sniffing. “Orange sticky rolls? Mimi and Grandad coming over?”
Felicity nodded.
“Cool. It’s been a while since we’ve done the family breakfast thing.” Honor slipped her arms around her mother and rested her head on her shoulder. “And you know I’ll never pass up your orange sticky rolls. You’re going to have to send them in care packages next fall.”
Felicity’s hold tightened for a second. She’d miss her sweet daughter’s spontaneous hugs, the happy swing of her strawberry-blond ponytail, and her laughter. All too soon, Honor would be moving into her dorm and starting an exciting new chapter. Until then, Felicity needed to collect as many moments with her daughter as possible.
“Love you, Mom.” Honor squeezed her back.
She pressed a kiss against Honor’s temple and let her go. “I love you, too.”
The doorbell rang.
“Since when do they ring the doorbell?” Charity asked, tugging at her shirt again.
“Is the door locked?” Felicity asked. She’d gone for her morning power walk at sunrise, but she didn’t remember locking it when she got back. Locks weren’t necessary in Pecan Valley.
“I’ll get it,” Nick called, his footfalls beating a trail to the front door. “Oh, hey, come on in.” Then he added, “The Murphys are here.”
“They are?” Charity grinned at her. “I wonder what sort of flowers he brings to your mom?” she mock whispered to Honor.
Honor grinned.
Felicity rolled her eyes. “Oh, please,” she protested for good measure. And yet, she was happy Graham was here. Happy and blushing because an image of the silky thing she’d purchased sprang to mind.