“In Boston, you’re lucky if you don’t get run over. We’re called Massholes for a reason.”
She chuckles, placing a hand on me to scoot around and get the baby out of the tub. I try not to notice the warmth of her touch or how good she smells. I shouldn’t notice these things. But I do.
Moving out of the way, I study her smile. The soft pink hue of her full lips. The way she tilts her head like she’s embarrassed. How gentle she is with Izzy when she dries her off.
It’s been a long day. The girl must be exhausted—she was up long before I was—but she’s yet to complain. I have no idea how I’m going to afford her and her back wages, what she really should’ve gotten and not some measly hundred dollars a week, but I’ll figure out a way, even if it means selling the Harley.
As we head into the hall, she pauses. “I’ll write down Bella’s schedule for you and create a list of all of her favorite things, so you’ll have a cheat sheet.”
I nod, grateful. Because I am so not fucking prepared here.
In the nursery, she shows me how to put on the baby’s diaper, and after a little wrestling match, I finally get Izzy into her PJs.
I’m learning everything has a name in babyspeak. Onesie. Blankie. Binkie.
Binkie?
Yeah, that’s basically a portable nipple. Kids get all the cool stuff.
I kiss my niece’s chubby cheek and tug the zipper up on her Party In My Crib onesie. “This is nice, sweetheart, but I have a really cute onesie at home too.” Izzy laughs like she understands I’m being a goof.
Katherine smiles, looking like she’s ready to pass out.
“I can put Izzy to bed. Just tell me what I should do and you can knock out. I know you’re wiped.”
We were supposed to eat dinner together, but the girl looks like she’s barely standing.
She nibbles her plump bottom lip. “You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I need to take over Izzy’s schedule, and it’s good of you to give me some time to get situated, but I can do more. Soon, I’ll have to handle baby duty without your help anyway.”
Those big hazel eyes widen. She nods, not looking excited like I thought she would. She looks… upset. Like she did in the kitchen when she offered to leave so she wouldn’t be a financial burden.
“Hey, that doesn’t mean Izzy doesn’t need you.”
Her eyes well with tears that she blinks away. Damn. I didn’t mean to upset her more. Clearing her throat, she nods again. “Sorry. I’m not usually so emotional. Of course you want to be able to take care of your niece on your own. For when you guys move home.”
I open my mouth, to say what, I don’t know, but she starts backing out of the room. “I’ll put her bottle to warm in the kitchen. Give it five minutes, shake it, test it on your wrist and then you can give it to her.”
I take a step toward her, but she shakes her head. “That Elmo blanket in the crib is her favorite. Wrap her in it as you rock her. She’ll be asleep in about fifteen minutes. Help yourself to the casserole.”
“Katherine…”
She offers me a sad smile. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
Then she walks out, and I feel like an ass. Again.
12
Katherine
You’re so stupid. So, so stupid.
Objectively, I know Brady and Isabella are moving back to Boston. No one needs to tell me this. He said as much in the kitchen this evening. And I can’t even begin to consider what that means for Mel’s farm.
But you’d think I was one hundred percent clueless because when he said he wanted to take care of the baby himself, a little piece of my heart died.
This is good, I tell myself, trying to keep a stiff upper lip. I need a reminder that I’m not family. I’m no one. Not everyone will treat you like Mel.
Shaking my head, I decide I won’t go down this road. I won’t feel sorry for myself. This is about Mel and Cal and the baby. Not me.
I’ll help Brady as much as I can while I figure out what to do next. I need a plan. A real one. I applied to a few positions a few weeks ago, but I honestly don’t care about them. Right now, it’s hard to care about anything but Isabella and getting through the funerals.
I can hear what my parents will say. Wasn’t that the whole point of going to Melissa’s months ago? You still haven’t figured out what you’re doing with your life?
It hurts to think I’m a disappointment to them. I was supposed to be a lawyer or doctor. You’d think I’d stabbed someone in the aorta when I told them I was majoring in marketing and PR. But they made so many sacrifices to send me to college so I wouldn’t have to struggle like they did. We were dirt poor when I was little, and when I say dirt, I mean we literally had dirt floors because the places we stayed at weren’t exactly built by code.