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“Sweets, are you scared of storms?” I ask, covering her with my throw blanket. She nods silently, chewing on her thumb. “You don’t have anything to be scared of.” I whisper to her. Lightning crashes and a raging thunder rolls loudly as the house falls dark. Heidi Jo whimpers, burrowing her head under the blanket. “Hey, don’t panic.” I pat her on the leg, then reach for my cell phone. “Here, I’ll turn on the flashlight on my phone. Just sit still while I go get a candle from the kitchen.”

“Don’t leave me!” She cries, latching onto my arm as I stand up. She hangs onto my shirt sleeve as I go into the kitchen, digging candles and a flashlight out of the cabinet. Her feet shuffle slowly beside me and her tiny voice shakes with light mewls. I strategically place the candles on the coffee table, lighting them with matches. As the soft flames flicker about the room, Heidi Jo’s tensions resolve. She climbs up on the couch and releases a deep breath, her small shoulders dropping as she relaxes. I take my cell phone from her hand, placing it on the table to reserve the battery just in case Colton tries to call. Sitting down beside her on the couch, I pull her close to me, tucking her under my arm.

“Wanna share secrets?” I ask her quietly and she nods. “Okay, I’ll go first. I’m terrified of storms, too.” She turns her head to look up at me, a confused look furrowing her tiny eyebrows. “When I was little, I used to climb in my sister’s bed anytime it would storm. She would tell me stories until I fell asleep.”

“Daddy always lets me sleep with him when it storms. I hope he gets home soon.” Her small voice shakes fearfully as her eyes dart around the pitch black room.

“You can sleep in your daddy’s bed with me tonight, then when he gets home, I’ll move to the couch. So what’s your secret?”

“I don’t like pickles.”

“That’s not much of a secret, sweets.” I laugh, tickling her side. She inhales deeply, plucking at the throw blanket, stewing over whatever hangs on her lip. Judging by her silence and shaky breaths, I’m guessing she’s worried about what she wants to share.

“Okay, you win,” she huffs. “I’m nervous to be a big sister.” She whispers, her voice cracking with tension.

“I can understand that, Heidi Jo. I’m nervous to become a momma. But we’ll do it together, okay?”

She sighs heavily and the look in her eyes tells me that she’s thinking about what she wants to say next. Just like her daddy, she bottles it up. “Carly Jo, am I bad for bein’ jealous of my little sister already?”

“No, I don’t think so. You’re used to being an only child and so many things are changing. Change is a very scary thing, sweets. But you’re gonna make a great big sister.”

She lets my words soak for a minute before speaking again. “I-I just want a momma. It’s not really fair that she gets you for a momma.”

The air escapes my lungs. Instead of panic consuming me like it did the first time she ever asked me if I’d be her momma one day, a fulfillment washes over me and my heart swells with joy. I never dreamed that a little girl could touch my heart the way Heidi Jo has. She had an immediate attachment to me once we met and has clung to my side ever since. It’s ironic that the secret Colton hid from me all those years ago, the secret that stripped us of seven years of our life together, is the very little lady who encompasses my heart now. But everything happens for a reason and I couldn’t be more blessed to have Heidi Jo in my life. She is the embodiment of spunk with a sassy attitude that reminds me of myself as a little girl.

“Sweets, I could never replace your momma. But I’ll always, always be here for you, Heidi Jo. I love you like you are my own little girl.”

She latches her arms around my neck and hugs me as strong as her little arms can squeeze me. “I want you to be my momma, Carly Jo.” She glances down at my belly with her eyes as wide as saucers. “Uhm, what was that?” She asks sitting back on her heels.

I cup her hand over my stomach right where the little monkey is rolling around at. “That, baby girl is your little sister kicking you. Do you feel her?” Her eyes light up with a glistening sheen of tears.

“That is so sweet!” She sq

ueals as she presses her face against my belly. She begins to hum quietly as she rubs my belly. This little girl never ceases to amaze me with her gentle heart and her strength of steel. I prop my feet up on the coffee table and brush Heidi Jo’s hair back out of her face, as she hums a lullaby to her baby sister. When her humming stops, I scoot her from my lap and cover her up with the throw blanket before blowing the candles out. When I sit back down, she latches her hand around my wrist and whispers, “Night momma, I love you.”

My heart stills.

I hate hospitals. Death lurks in the dark corners ready to snatch its next victim. The only good experience I’ve had in a hospital was when Heidi Jo was born and even that was followed by death. I stomp into the hospital and check with the receptionist to see if Pops has been moved to a regular room yet. She tells me he’s in room five thirty five, so I round the corner to the bank of elevators. Pressin’ the up button I wait impatiently before stompin’ over to the fire exit and take the steps two at a time to the fifth floor.

When I pull the door open to the fifth floor the distinct smell of antiseptic invades my senses and I cringe as my stomach lurches from the scent. Death. That’s all I smell within these damn four walls. I walk down the long corridor to room five thirty five and stop when I hear two voices speakin’. Without knockin’ I push the door open and rage rushes through my veins when I see Drew Varney sittin’ at my Pops’ bedside.

When Drew’s eyes lock on mine he stands dustin’ the lint from his sleeve. “Glad you’re okay, Bill. I’ll stop by to see you tomorrow if you’re still in here.”

“Don’t go outta ya way on my account, Drew.” Pops says angrily, his voice ragged. The air about the room is thick with tension and the frantic beepin’ of the heart monitor tells me Pops is stressed.

Drew pushes past me, his shoulder hittin’ mine and he sneers when I notice the contact. Stupid prick.

“Pops, ya feelin’ alright? Where’s momma at?” I say, glancin’ around the room.

“I’m on the right side of dirt, son. That’s what counts I guess.” He chuckles lightly, and it’s a sound I ain’t heard in months. “Ya momma went down to get some coffee just after Drew showed up. She’ll be back up shortly.”

“Think I’ll go check on her. Be right back.” I say, tippin’ my head up at him as I turn on my heels and leave the room. He don’t even try to stop me, perhaps he just ain’t got the strength. I stomp down the hallway takin’ the fire exit downstairs to the lobby. I push the door open to the first floor hallway and look from the left to the right in search of Drew. Stormin’ towards the lobby I see him walkin’ out the exit and I pick up the pace to catch up with him.

“You stupid bastard,” I yell claspin’ my hand around the back of his neck spinnin’ him around to face me. “You put the old man in here and you got balls big enough to show up here?” He stares at me with a stunned expression, his eyes skating wildly from my eyes to my hand fisted at my side.

“Mr. Weston, you might wanna remove your hand and take a step back.” He smirks and it takes everything in me not to smash his frickin’ face against the concrete again.

“Yeah and why’s that you frickin’ pussy? I’ve done tore your ass up once, don’t think I won’t do it again.” I spit, steppin’ forward to close the distance between us.

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