I’m not even aware that I’m crying until I feel the wetness on my cheeks. “I love you, Jane, and you’re a wonderful mother. You’re giving Londyn a real, solid family, something we didn’t have. She’s going to have a better beginning than we did.” Regret is bitter in my mouth. “I’m so sorry you remember that night. I really hoped you and Andrew missed most of what happened in that house.”
“No, don’t be. Please. I don’t want you to feel bad. I want you to know that I’ve watched you my whole life. You give and give to others, sometimes to the detriment of yourself.” She pauses. “Which brings me to Graham. Something was just off last night in the kitchen with him. Maybe no one else would notice, but I’m the girl you raised. I know when something isn’t right with you. And since when have you ever called any guy ‘honey bunny’？” She spears me with her eyes, a fierceness there I haven’t seen in months. Part of me is thrilled, but the other side of me senses danger.
She stands and paces around my office, a determined look growing on her face. “You agreed to marry him in a week, and I can’t figure out why. You barely know him. Kian asked you, and you knew him for a year.”
“Kian cheated, tracked, and choked me.”
“I know, I know, and I’m glad he’s gone, but the thing is you didn’t even tell me you were dating someone. Please. Emmy. I need you to tell me what’s going on. I need to know if you’re sacrificing yourself somehow . . .”
I glance down at the gorgeous diamond on my finger, and my hands clench. I can’t find the words to answer her—without lying.
“How does he take his coffee?” she asks me abruptly.
I sputter. “I, um . . .”
“Not fast enough. When is his birthday, and you have to give me the right answer because I googled it.”
My stomach drops as we stare at each other.
“I have no clue,” I admit ruefully.
“What’s his middle name?”
I groan inwardly. Dammit. I twist a piece of hair around my finger. “Graham and I, we got caught up in the physical side of things and haven’t really talked much about the little things.”
“Why are you twisting your hair? No, don’t answer that because I already know why. You only twist your hair when you’re lying.”
I huff. “I don’t.”
“You do, Ma.” She smirks. “I knew something wasn’t right. What is so special about Graham that my beautiful, kind sister would marry him—without really knowing him?”
My eyes meet hers. “Jane—”
I stop when the door opens, and Babs brings in a tray with teas and blueberry scones.
She eyes us both. “You two need anything else? Shot of vodka? I’ve got some in Terry’s office.”
I shake my head. “No, we’re good.”
“Are you sure?” She probably sees the traces of our tears.
Jane and I nod.
Babs fidgets. “Um, wanna hear something funny?”
“Sure,” I say. Anything to deflect from me and Graham.
“Someone just came in and asked for a book on how to turn himself invisible.”
Jane squints. “No way. Was he an adult?”
Babs smirks. “Oh yeah, and totally stoned. He smells like wacky weed. I told him we have a book called The Invisible Man, and I may have told him that we have an invisible section, but he’d have to find it on his own. Last I saw, he was feeling along all the walls on the second floor.”
There’s a beat of silence; then we all three burst into laughter. “God, I adore this place,” I say.
Babs’s eyes grow misty. “I hate that Terry is leaving, but I’m happy the buyer is keeping the store open. I gripe about some of the customers, but they’re still lovely and make my day, except for the man who only comes in so he can poop in our restroom. I guess I need to go tell the stoned fellow to stop looking for the invisible part of the store.” She sighs. “I’d really rather sit in here with you two and chat, but we’re still down employees.”
Jane’s eyes flare as she looks at me. “Do you need help here?”
“Yes, please,” I say in a pleading voice. She’s worked here on and off a few times.
Babs squeals and claps her hands. “Can you start today?”
“Andrew has Londyn for a few hours, so yes,” Jane says.
Babs sighs. “The two Darling sisters together. It’s almost two perfect, especially since Graham is the owner of the store—”