Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Drinking had never been a vice of mine. I’d seen what it could do to people, experienced firsthand how it could ruin lives, turn off utilities, empty cupboards of food. It was not alluring to me, and I rarely had extra money to justify spending on it. But this was a celebration, the sparkling drink instantly making my limbs feel lighter, chasing away the underlying feeling of dread that had chilled my blood all day.
“Come and sit.” Calliope gestured to where the women of Jupiter had perched on the picnic table and chairs I’d put out this morning.
“I should…” I flicked my wrist to the gaggle of girls and toddlers within reach of choking hazards, not to mention Clara in her mask, staying out of touching distance.
“There are men to do the child watching.” Calliope waved in the direction of men who were indeed watching the children. “Elliot,” she called out. “Watch these children.”
Her “not boyfriend” instantaneously broke from his conversation to come over to us. “Sure, babe,” he said, kissing her neck.
The act was so intimate and casual, yet at the same time, it felt illegal for me to be seeing it. I felt intense longing for something like that. For a connection with someone I could rely on.
I gazed around the yard. Kip and Rowan were running around after their respective children. Kane was sitting dutifully while his daughter made him his own flower crown with chubby fingers. It was refreshing to see the mothers sitting, chatting, and enjoying drinks while the fathers chased the kids. I’d been to a few children’s birthday parties, and that was not usually the case. It was typically frazzled mothers who barely got a moment to eat, drink, or talk to each other while the men leisurely enjoyed beer and conversation.
“Hannah, did you do all of this?” Nora asked when I sat down, self-conscious around these older, glamorous women I looked up to. Their friendships seemed so solid, effortless; their relationships envious. Their whole lives seemed like fairy tales, though realistically, I knew that couldn’t be the case. People didn’t exactly wear their traumas on their sleeves. I should’ve known that better than anyone.
“I mean, Beau handled the bouncy house,” I replied, suddenly embarrassed by all the attention being on me. I had been happy before, hanging out with children who hadn’t learned to judge people yet. Not that I felt judged by Nora or any of the women paying attention to the question. I was projecting my own judgment of myself onto them. I was self-aware enough to know that, at least.
“Yes, Beau handled the bouncy house… He googled ‘child’s birthday party’ then did whatever was at the top of the search list,” Calliope interjected. “I doubt Beau thought about potion stations, flower crowns, or cookie decorating.”
I pursed my lips to avoid a smile. I loved that despite Calliope not knowing Beau all that well yet, she never shied from calling him on his bullshit.
“That was me,” I agreed sheepishly. I didn’t do all of this in an attempt to gain credit from all of these women. I hadn’t even known they were all coming and certainly hadn’t planned on interacting with them. Plus, I felt a small need to defend Beau, especially after what he’d shared last night. He didn’t have the capacity to think of potion-making stations because he was still held captive by the memories of last year.
“It’s amazing.” Nora looked around with wide eyes before smiling kindly at me.
“I’m stealing all of these ideas for June’s birthday party,” Fiona piped in, her accent making her all the more cool and interesting. And she was already plenty cool with her effortless style, a great sense of humor, and a casual ease with her daughter that was inspiring.
All of these women modeled motherhood in a way I’d never seen. They loved so completely, so out loud, nurturing and adoring their children. I hadn’t entirely believed such a thing existed.
I felt so very happy for all the small people running around that backyard, knowing that they’d grow up with such love.
I sipped my champagne again, longing for that lightness in my limbs to carry me away from my past, my problems, the way my brain was only half listening to this conversation, the rest focused on Beau.
“Are you planning on continuing nannying for Beau once Clara is in kindergarten?” Nora asked, sipping her own drink.
I shook my head. “No, I’m here until she starts, then I’m going into my final year of nursing school. This has been a bit of a … sabbatical,” I explained, feeling immensely self-conscious that the conversation was still on me.
Beau didn’t ask me questions if he could avoid it, and I made myself scarce when his family was around. Until that moment, I didn’t realize I’d avoided personal conversations for so long. Even at nursing school, I’d been friendly but focused on my assignments and my jobs. There were people I knew enough to have a study group with, but that was all. My numerous roommates were in the same situation as me—working our asses off to get through college. I never went to parties, didn’t bond with anyone like I fantasized I might, no lifelong friendships formed. I was too busy and too tired.