“No, Josie, we aren’t egging her house.”
“But can we toilet paper it? I got two-ply tissue. Only the best quality, too. It’s quilted. Soft as a down comforter. If anything, it’ll be like we’re wrapping the jerk’s place in a soft blanket.” She bit her bottom lip. “And then we’ll throw egg yolks at the tissue.”
I laughed, which felt so odd. Josie had that ability, though, to make the saddest person find a second of laughter. “I think we’ll hold off on the revenge.”
“Okay, but when it’s time, just say the word.”
“I promise I will.”
“Want to go to our old stomping grounds where we would people watch and get drunk without them knowing?” Josie asked, wiggling her eyebrows in hopes that I’d agree.
“Sounds like a plan.”
We walked through town to Kap Park and sat down on the bench that faced downtown Chester. When we were younger, we’d see so many insane things from that park bench. The drama that unfolded as we sipped our “Diet Cokes” and laughed was always entertaining.
But that day, everything felt different. The small town that used to make me laugh felt like a foreign country to me.
“You’re okay, buddy,” Josie said as we stared out at the events of the night. “I mean, you’re not, but you will be.”
Part of me believed her, while another part thought it to be nothing but a lie.
“Josephine and Gracelyn Mae, I haven’t seen you ladies sitting on this bench together in what seems like forever,” Charlotte stated, walking over to us in her high heels. Her pink painted lips curved into a wide smile on her face, and my stomach turned. The last thing I wanted to do that afternoon was deal with Charlotte’s nosy self.
She made herself at home and sat down right beside me. “How are you doing, Grace? You know, I’ve been hearing rumors. And I actually just saw you a bit earlier running through town with Jackson Emery’s hand in yours. What was that about? Is everything okay?” She said the words as if she was concerned about my well-being, but I knew better now.
She was just being Charlotte—a gossip queen.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d read about my life in her newspaper column come Sunday afternoon.
“What makes you think you have the right to ask her anything like that, Charlotte?” Josie barked, backing me up because she knew I wasn’t going to stand up for myself.
I didn’t know how.
“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Charlotte questioned, pressing her hand to her chest.
“You said everything wrong. Now, if you don’t mind, Grace and I were having a private conversation, and we’d like to get back to it without having busybodies like you interrupting,” Josie told her.
“Well, the attitude isn’t needed,” Charlotte huffed, standing from the bench.
“Yeah, well, neither were your invasive questions. Have a blessed day,” Josie remarked, smiling brightly toward Charlotte, who was walking off in annoyance.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “If I would’ve ever said that, my mama would’ve shamed me for life.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not you, and my mama can’t stand that girl as much. Plus, Charlotte is, after all, my own cousin. If anyone should’ve told her to shut her trap, it should’ve been family.”
“Thank you, Josie. For being you.”
“It’s all I know how to be,” she remarked, nudging me in my shoulder. “Now if you just want to sit here in silence, we can do that. Or if you want to talk, we can do that too, okay? Whatever you need, we can do.”
“I just hate her…” I confessed. “I know I shouldn’t because I was taught that hate doesn’t do anyone any good, but I do. I hate her so much.”
“You’re not alone in your hate for her. Autumn has always been a hard one for me. She always seemed so…fake.”
“Everyone always said she and I were just alike.”
“Well, everyone’s an idiot. You’re genuine. You always have been even when people didn’t deserve your kindness. But her? She’s just…ugh. I mean, I really hate her. And her parents, too. They always rubbed me the wrong way. Who names their kid Autumn when they were born in February? Seriously! Who does that?! You could’ve named her anything. I have lists of names I would’ve given her. Like Karla.”
“Or Mia.”
“Or Rebecca, Becca for short,” she offered.
“Or Evette. Maybe Harper.”
“Oh, I love Harper.” Josie nodded, placing the lip of the mug to her mouth and gently blowing the tea to cool it off. “Or Alexandria.”
“Lexie for short.”
“Or Andie for short.”
“Or Alex.”
“I love those names. That could be used for either a guy or girl. Like Jamie or Chris or Dylan,” she explained.
“Morgan, Reese, or Taylor.”
“Jordan. Sawyer.”
“Emerson,” I whispered, the words dancing from my tongue and stinging my heart. I took a deep breath and shut my eyes. “I would’ve named my daughter Emerson.”
When I opened my eyes, I saw the hurt in Josie’s stare. I gave her a tight smile and shook my head. “Sorry.” I always tried my best to keep my infertility struggles to myself. I always tried to keep a smile on my face in front of others, but sometimes, I slipped.
Especially when my best friend was pregnant by my husband.
No apologies, Josie signed my way. “Don’t be sorry. You’re allowed to hurt.” She gave me a broken smile, and I knew what it meant. “A while back, your mom mentioned to me that you and Finn were trying to start a family and how hard that had been for you,” she said, her voice as gentle as ever. She must’ve seen the hurt in my eyes by her comment because she quickly added more words to the conversation. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I just…” She took a deep breath and rolled up her left sleeve. On her forearm sat three small heart tattoos, each one with angel wings attached to them. “I just want you to know you’re not alone in those feelings.”
I released a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “I see people with children in town, and I wonder if they know how lucky they are,” I whispered, my voice shaky.
“Yes, and you’re happy for them, you are, but you’re also really pissed off too, right?”
I slowly nodded, feeling guilt for my resentment. I’ve resented myself for so long. I felt anger with my body, with my inability to do the one thing I was supposed to be able to do: create a family.
Josie’s voice was so soft as she continued to speak. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I wanted to let you know you aren’t alone in this. If you ever need someone to talk to…or someone to just be mad with, I’m here.”
“Thank you, Josie. That means a lot to me.”
“Anytime. I know how lonely this road we walk can get, and with everything else going on with you…” Her words faded, and she grinned. “I just want you to know if you need a friend, you got one in me.”
I took in her words and held them tight. I needed a friend more than anything lately.
Home is healing.
“I’m so sorry,” I stated, nodding in the direction of her tattoo. “For your three hearts.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me. How many for you?”
I took my next breath slowly. “Seven.”
“Oh, honey…” Her hands landed against her heart because she knew. Any woman who’d ever lost a child knew of the hollowness that remained within the soul. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine.”
She frowned. “You’re tired.”
“Yes,” I whispered, taking my next breath even slower. “I’m tired.”
She pulled me into a hug. A tight one that I couldn’t break away from even if I wanted to let her go. I fell into the comfort she brought me, and I held her back for her three hearts as she honored my seven.
The simple feeling of not being alone washed over me as I held Josie tightly.
As she embraced me, she softly spoke. “Ellis.” She pulled away from me and wiped her own tears as she smiled and signed my way, “I would’ve named the last one Ellis.”
“And they would’ve been beautiful.”
“God. I bet they would’ve had Harry’s eyes,” she said, laughing slightly as she shook her head, thinking of her husband.
“And your smile,” I signed.