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Chapter One
Jenna
Under normal circumstances, I don’t break into someone else’s house. Especially not with a pregnant woman and two children under the age of five.
But here I am.
Although, does it even count as breaking in if the doors weren’t locked? And if they had been, Jess has a key?
I honestly can’t say I know the answer to that question. I do find it a little ironic the house we “broke into” happens to belong to the chief of police. Then again, Seth is the one who doesn’t lock his doors and has the pregnant sister who thought this would be a brilliant idea. In our defense, it could be some legitimately creepy person hiding out in his laundry room to jump out at him for his birthday.
Oh, yeah, I forgot to mentionwhywe’re in here. Today is Seth’s thirty-third birthday.I don’t think he’s a big fan of celebrating his birthdays (or people making a fuss over him in general) but when Jess said she wanted to surprise him, I just couldn’t say no. It doesn’t help that Jess asked when Ella was with me, and if Seth had a list of admirers, Ella’s name might just be at the very top. That said, he’s been a good friend to me ever since my husband left. The least I can do is pretend I’m a bed sheet and probably give the poor man a heart attack when he walks in, right?
“Okay, we’ve got five minutes before my brother gets here,” Jess says after glancing at her phone, one hand resting on her cute little baby bump. She looks adorable as a pregnant lady. Today she’s wearing a pair of taupe Birkenstocks, skinny jeans, and a pale green T-shirt that saysMy husband is a hottie,her naturally wavy auburn hair in a braid over her shoulder. “Are you guys ready for this?”
Ella, my four-almost-five-year-old daughter, bobs her head of dark curls enthusiastically. “I think Office Seth is gonna be really surprised! Don’t you, Mommy?”
I love it when she calls meMommyand sincerely hope she never stops. When we’re both over the age of forty and she has her own kids, I will still melt inside. Or, at the very least, Mama.Momis all fine and good and dandy, but it’s just a little bit blah, too. As far as the “Office Seth”, it’s her version ofOfficer.When she was younger, she couldn’t get the full word out. I think Seth secretly loves it, though he’s never said so.
“I know he will be, sweetheart.” Because who wouldn’t be surprised to find four people camping out in your laundry room pretending to be unwashed sheets? If it weren’t for the fact that my son, Eli, is currently asleep in my arms, toy car still clutched in his precious chubby toddler hand, I’d playfully bop Ella on the nose like I’ve done since she was born. It always makes her giggle, and her wrinkled nose looks way more adorable than any selfie featuring the nose scrunch on Instagram. Or maybe I’m biased. But isn’t any good mother? “I probably won’t be able to move out of here very fast, though. Pro tip for when your baby is born, Jess: never jolt him or her awake.”
Jess’s face softens at the mere mention of her unborn baby, even as she chuckles. “Noted. You should probably tell my husband, though. He’s going to be an amazing daddy, don’t get me wrong. He’s just a little more spontaneous than me, so he’d probably be the one to wake this baby unexpectedly. You should’ve seen the way he would wake Beau up when he was napping. The poor dog couldn’t get a nap in if he wanted to. Then again, Marshall is known to take hard naps sometimes, so maybe it’ll be different with a baby.”
“When is he coming, again?” Ella sets her hands on Jess’s tummy, her dark eyes wide with curiosity. Then a giggle slips past her lips before Jess can respond, and Ella squeals. “I felt him!”
For some reason, Ella has decided Jess is having a boy, even though Marshall and Jess haven’t found out the gender yet. I know for a fact that Jess is going to be an excellent mother either way, though, because she doesn’t shoo Ella’s hands or exclamations away. Instead, she smiles and answers the questions my daughter fires her way—when will the baby be born? Do you have his name yet? Can you feel him? —with the endless patience that is a prerequisite to being a mom. Or a dad. Some people, however, don’t get that memo when they find out they’re going to be a parent. I speak from experience. Not me, personally, but my former husband is a shining example of how a father shouldnotbe.
Oh, in the beginning Pete was excited. He showed all the signs of being an overjoyed father-to-be when I told him I was pregnant with Ella after one miscarriage and two years of marriage. We decorated the nursery of our suburban home to be special for our precious Elizabeth Joy when we found out we were having a girl. Used all the pastel colors and bought the perfect rocking chair for the corner of the room. Showed the room off when our friends came over. Pete even played the part of loving husband by asking if I needed anything or rubbing my shoulders or telling me how beautiful I was when I couldn’t touch my toes anymore because I felt like a penguin. And let me tell you, as someone who is into yoga, it was a little devastating to not be able to touch my toes. I wasn’t all that big when I was pregnant, but still. Some things were just not doable at a certain point.
Honestly, from all outward appearances, my ex was a stand-up husband and father. Handsome, charming, successful in his career as an attorney. And maybe, for someone looking at our life from the outside in, he was.
They didn’t see what went on behind the scenes, though. They weren’t around when he belittled me for having my own dreams. They didn’t see him call my paintings a “waste of time.” They didn’t see the way his words affected me, the way I actually started to believe his lies because I really didn’t want to lose my marriage. Especially not when we had Ella, and even after Eli was born. My daughter is named after my middle name, Elizabeth, and my son’s full name is Elijah, which is Pete’s middle name. It’s not like he ever did anything to me physically, but I know enough to know that my marriage wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t the place to raise a family.
I honestly thought Pete was changing for the better when we decided to move to this idyllic little lake town only six months before Eli was born. We got a smaller house that needed a little bit of work so we could make it our own, and he was able to work remotely for his father’s firm, which meant we were together almost all the time. It was like the man I’d met my junior year of college was back.
I was wrong.
When I was served divorce papers six months after Eli was born, I knew it was all a façade. I don’t want to paint my ex in a bad light, but here’s the deal: I didn’t want my marriage to end, either. I told Pete we could go to counseling to help our marriage, I asked him what I could do to prevent the divorce. None of it worked. His decisions were made, and to this day, my kids and I rarely hear from their father.
When the divorce was finalized, I was devastated. I had a three-year-old daughter and fourteen-month-old son, and suddenly I was on my own. With sole custody, yes, but that means I’m basically the only one responsible for our income, which provides the food we eat, the roof over our heads, the clothes we wear—I think you get the point.
But what Pete didn't count on when he left me with the kids was how the community of Balsam Falls would adopt us as their own. I’m pretty sure he didn’t expect the chief of police to drop groceries off on my doorstep every week, Wynn and Marshall Bryant to build the kids and I a safe, brand-new home in a secure neighborhood, my boss Joanna Crawford to become such a close friend, and our neighbor Alice Mabel to become the kids’ fill-in grandma and a mother-figure to me. My life might’ve imploded the day Pete walked out, but I’m living proof that my God is good.
Am I all the way where I want to be? No. There are still a few dreams I’ve yet to fulfill, and I sacrifice a lot of time with my kids to work, but I know it won’t be forever. Someday, I will be able to provide an income for us without having to be away from Ella and Eli as much as I am now. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m extremely blessed right now. Joanna gives me hours during the day so Iveryrarely have to work later than five—unless someone calls in sick or Farm to Table is temporarily short-staffed, but that’s rarer than me working later than five—which allows me to be home in the evenings with my kids. Because if there are two things I will never give up, it’s Ella and Eli.
A close second would be the friendships I’ve been allowed to make over the past two and a half years. If not for Seth bringing those groceries, always offering to talk for a little while when I know he didn’t have to, and conveniently arranging a job interview for me (I say convenient, because I’m pretty sure they don’t normally sayyou’re hired!before the interview starts, which is how I know Seth pulled some strings), we wouldn’t be sitting in this laundry room with Seth’s little sister right now. Had Marshall—who is Jess’s husband—and his older brother not brought this community together to raise enough money to pay for more than half of my house, we wouldn’t be living where we are with neighbors like Alice and her husband, Jack.
I won’t get into the nitty-gritty of it now because I think I just heard a car door, but I’m just a really thankful human being. Though I don’t frequently attend a church, I firmly believe that God is wherever I am. Some days he’s there for me when I’m having a breakdown in the middle of doing another load of laundry and the kids are cranky and I wish I wasn’t doing this parenting thing alone. Other days he’s there in the sunshine on my face and the kids’ laughter that warms my heart and the knowledge that I’m actuallynotdoing this thing alone. I have absolutely nothing against churches, but personally, my church isn’t a building. It’s every single moment of every single day.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when Eli stirs in my arms, and without even realizing it, a smile pulls at my lips. I brush my son’s blond curls from his little forehead, hoping to help him wake up gently. Considering it’s a few minutes past six in the evening, he really shouldn’t be napping right now anyway.
That said, try entertaining a three-year-old while hiding in a laundry room and not making any noise. Yeah, I think we’ll be okay this one time.
“He’s coming!” Ella exclaims, then claps her tiny hands over her mouth as her eyes widen. “Oops.”
Jess winks. “Don’t worry, my brother doesn’t havethatgood of hearing, El.”
Considering he’s a cop, I doubt that. But again, Jess is going to be an excellent mother come October when she and Marshall’s first baby is born.
