Worth More Than Money (Worth It 3)

I sat up and smiled as I watched him gather up his clothes, leaving my room stark naked and flexing with every step he took.

Getting up, I showered and dressed, then puttered around the house. Every day there was a new room for me to discover. A new facet of the house I hadn’t seen yet. I pulled out my laptop and sat down in the living room in order to do some online shopping. I was looking at and pricing things for the baby. Cribs and changing tables and clothes over the years. Cloth diapers versus disposable, and strollers that were both good and bad. It made me nervous to see all of that money. How expensive things were for children. The smallest voice at the back of my mind tore through my thoughts, so I started a running list of all the things my child would need along with the prices.

Then, I started a column of the things my child could do without. Just in case I was wrong yet again about my circumstance with Gray.

I was in the process of looking up prices for clothes when the doorbell rang. I ignored it, figuring Gray would hear it and come to the door, but no one came. The doorbell rang again and I wondered if anyone would get upset if I answered it. But the third time the damn thing sounded in the house, I figured someone needed to answer the door.

I opened the door and found a box sitting on the porch. I picked it up and looked at the return address and my body stilled. What was Gray doing getting packages from Stillsville?

“Gray?” I called out.

But there was no answer as I kicked the door closed.

“Gray, you here?” I asked again.

And still, silence.

I reached for my cell phone and called him up. For all I knew, he was in the middle of the vineyard. I set the package down on the coffee table like it was on fire. I didn’t want to touch it any more than I had to.

“Hey there, beautiful. Everything okay?” Gray asked.

I smiled at his words before I cleared my throat.

“You got a package,” I said. “The return address is from Stillsville.”

“Is the last name on it Angier?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “For you from someone named—”

“That’s the realtor. The man working on closing the deal on Anton’s home. Go ahead and open it, then set it on the kitchen counter. I’ll deal with it once I get back.”

“Where are you?” I asked. “I didn’t know you were heading out.”

“I’m out in the vineyards right now and I have to run in to town for a meeting.”

“Well, stay safe. The sun looks hot.”

“Trust me, it is. And I will. I’ll go through the package once I get back. If it’s documents or something, call me back. If it’s anything else, I’ll tend to it when I get home.”

“Okay,” I said. “Then I’ll let you know what it is once I open it.”

“Talk to you soon, Michelle.”

“Can’t wait,” I said, with a smile.

I hung up the phone call and tore directly into the box. I was curious to know what had been sent to him. I got the box open and found a note sitting on top. A note from the same man that had addressed the package.

Mr. MacDonald,

These are some personal effects from the attic that were boxed up. The buyer is going through the house and sending some things off, and I figured you might want these.

Mr. Angier

I took a picture of the note and sent it to Gray, and he shot back with a quick response.

Set it in the kitchen. I’ll go through it later.

But I couldn’t help myself.