I turned to watch Maddox and Mason as they shared a toy.
“They’re getting so big.” Sophie sighed.
“I know,” I agreed wistfully. “I should take him home for a nap.”
“Me too.” Sophie nodded. “I swear our town is quieter between the hours of twelve and two.” She laughed.
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” I replied, lifting Mason into my arms.
“Dinner tonight?” she offered.
“Uh, are you cooking?” I asked cautiously. Sophie wasn’t exactly great in the kitchen.
She rolled her eyes. “No, Ax is going to barbeque. Pipe, you and Ry are coming, right?”
“Yep.” Piper nodded.
“Sounds good,” I agreed. “Text me with what you want me to bring.”
“Cool,” Sophie agreed with a wave.
“Let’s go home, Bubs,” I murmured to Mason.
Not surprisingly, Mason fell asleep in the car on the way home. I carried him into our apartment, loving the feel of his soft weight, made heavier in sleep.
Our home had been my friend Kat’s place, then Sophie’s, and the club had purchased it, wisely figuring they’d need it again.
They’d been right.
The large loft-style studio with a galley kitchen, high ceilings, and exposed brick was spacious enough for the two of us. Though it was only one large room, the walk-in closet was large enough to function as a small bedroom for Mason. I was able to fit his crib in there and kept the majority of my clothes in an armoire instead.
I’d tried to make the small space as cozy as possible with a mobile hanging from the ceiling and glow-in-the-dark stars on the walls. He seemed completely content and slept soundly nearly every night.
I laid him gently in his crib, watching his long eyelashes flutter with what I hoped were the sweetest of dreams.
If only I could be so lucky.
Chapter 3
The call came a few days later as I was putting Mason down for a nap. I don’t know how I knew—looking back, it had been the case with every meaningful event in my life. I just knew deep down that something terrible had happened. I eyed my phone warily before picking it up, its small size like a brick in my hand, ominously heavy.
“Mrs. Turner?” the unfamiliar female voice asked.
“It’s Miss,” I corrected automatically. My divorce may not have been finalized, but I’d be damned if I was tied to Tim by anyone.
“This is Regina Fredricks from Oakview Retirement Community. I’m so sorry, Miss Turner, but your grandmother passed away early this morning.”
I sucked in an audible breath, reaching out to grasp the nearest support I could find so I didn’t collapse. The kitchen stool felt cold and unyielding underneath my unrelenting grip.
“I-I just spoke to her yesterday,” I breathed. It felt unbelievable and impossible that my grandmother could just be… gone.
“It was sudden.” Her tone was full of sympathy. “She passed peacefully in her sleep. You’re listed as her next of kin. As I understand it, she spoke to you about her last wishes?”
“Yes,” I managed to confirm. The conversation we’d had just under a year ago, right after her stroke, came to mind, still vivid despite the time and events that had occurred since.
“No fuss, Jilly. I mean it,” she’d told me firmly with her typical surliness. She’d always had an unapologetic ire, caused by hard living. It made getting to the soft side that she only shared with a select few—my sister and myself included—all the sweeter. “The money I’ve saved is meager—I meant it to be. I’d rather spend any money I have on what living I have left.”
I’d managed a nod, knowing she wouldn’t want me getting emotional.