This Time For Keeps. Jenna Mills
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between her ear and shoulder, Meg reached for the milk—and lost her towel. “Oh, crap.”
Julia laughed. “You were saying?”
“I—” Forgot. Somehow in her rush to soothe and feed Charlotte, she’d completely forgotten that she’d yet to get dressed. “My hair is wet.”
“Usually happens when you take a shower,” Julia said. “The key is to dry it before you come to work.”
Lately, that didn’t always happen.
“Or wash it at night,” her cousin went on as Meg rifled through a basket of laundry for clean underwear. “That’s what I started doing after Austin.” Mother of an almost teenager, Julia ran her family like a drill sergeant. If there was a problem, Julia had a solution. She could hold down a job at the paper, she could cook, she could clean, she could keep her son in line, and still have time for a pedicure.
Meg hadn’t quite gotten there yet.
“I know, I know.” She struggled into her panties and fastened her bra. “It’s just…” There’d been so many changes in such a short period of time. And nowhere near enough sleep. “I’ll try.”
Julia didn’t miss a beat. “And you’ll do great. But until then, I’m guessing you need me to cover for you.”
Meg blinked. Cover for her?
“The meeting?” Julia went on, reading Meg’s mind, as always. Only four days separated them in age. Most of their friends referred to them as twins born to different mothers. It was only natural that they worked together at the Gazette. “You know…breakfast? Henry? Veronica?”
Meg’s lawyer—and her accountant. Of course. To discuss the Gazette’s finances—and how long they could continue operating at a loss. Meg herself had scheduled the meeting. Breakfast had been the only time available. The rest of the day was consumed by an editorial meeting then an all-afternoon planning meeting for the Wildflower Festival. It was less than a week away and the silent auction benefiting the March of Dimes was still up in the air. Plus she and Charlotte had a photo shoot scheduled.
“I’ll be there,” she said, tearing at the dry cleaning draped over a chair. The office was only a few miles away. “Give me twenty—”
“Meg.”
She shoved the tangled mess of wet hair back from her face. All she needed was a comb—
“Stop it.”
She stilled, her hands fisted against the linen of her favorite black blouse, not because of her cousin’s words. But because of the gentleness in her voice. The quiet understanding.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“It’s going to be okay,” Julia said quietly. “I promise.”
Meg squeezed her eyes shut.
“You can do this.”
She swallowed. “I know.”
“We’re here for you…all of us. You’re not alone.”
The smile was automatic. She had the greatest friends in the world. “I know,” she said again, and this time her voice was a little stronger.
“I just…” Julia let out a rough breath. “I don’t understand. Did his parents call again?”
Briskly, Meg stepped into her favorite cargo pants. “Yesterday.”
“Did you call them back—”
“No.”
“Meg, you can’t—”
“No,” she said again, this time firmer. She’d only spoken to Russell’s family once in almost two years. She had neither the time nor the interest to cater to them now. They’d had more than enough chances. “There’s no reason to.”
“There’s every reason to. You can’t ignore them and hope they’ll go away. She’s their granddaughter. They have a right—”
The thud of wood against wood, followed by shrieking, stole the rest of Julia’s words. Meg swung toward the kitchen—no longer saw the baby.
“I have to go!” She dropped the phone and ran toward the wails, found Charlotte on the floor of the dining room—underneath one of the big antique chairs.
“Char!” Meg was by the baby’s side in a heartbeat, on her knees and yanking the heavy chair away, scooping Charlotte into her arms. “Are you okay—” The nasty red welt on the side of her forehead told Meg what she needed to know.
She’d forgotten. In her rush to get breakfast and get dressed for the meeting she’d spaced, she’d forgotten about Charlotte. She’d set her down on the floor to play, completely overlooking the fact that Charlotte could now pull up and cruise.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, gently inspecting the emerging goose egg. “So sorry,” she said again, and this time the dam broke, and the tears came. Wearing only her bra and panties, her hair still damp, she cradled the baby in her arms and buried her face against Charlotte, pressing soft kiss after soft kiss against bright red hair. “I’m trying,” she promised. “I’m trying.”
But she’d never planned to do this alone.
Like a sweet little angel, Charlotte nuzzled closer, once again lifting her mouth to root at Meg’s breast. “Mama-mama…”
The tears came harder. “I know.” She gulped. “I know.” And she did. She could love this child of her heart and care for her, feed her and rock her and cradle her, give her every second of every day, every drop of time and energy she had, every creature comfort imaginable.
But she could never give her niece the one thing she wanted—needed—the most.
Her mother.
THE BIG GREEN BANNER stretched high over Main Street, secured to light posts on either side of the road.
Join Us For The Flowers…Stay For The Fun!
Meg tensed as she zipped beneath, barely cruising into the intersection before the light turned red. The festival had become an annual rite of spring in Pecan Creek, attracting visitors from all across Texas and Louisiana. This year she’d proposed extending their marketing to include Oklahoma and Arkansas. East Texas wasn’t that far a drive from either, and if they could attract a hundred or so new attendees, the extra dollars would go a long way toward helping local merchants.
In the historic district, restaurants and hotels saw a significant jump in business. The gift shops ran special promotions. The high school band used money from the bake sale to fund their annual day trip to Six Flags in Arlington. The moms’ club counted on the sales from their cookbook to fund the local women’s shelter.
Meg wasn’t sure what had possessed her to take on the extra responsibility. Of course, when she’d stepped forward, she’d had little else to fill her days. Or her nights. The Gazette had not yet started to hemorrhage money—and her sister-in-law, Ainsley, had been beautifully, gloriously alive. Vibrant. Pregnant. They’d been over-the-moon excited.
The memory hurt.
Zooming past the row of shops and restaurants eagerly awaiting the onslaught of tourists, Meg headed for the small parking lot on the corner. Across the street sat the renovated former general store that now served as the main office for the Piney Woods Gazette. The paper had been in Meg’s family since her great-grandfather had founded it over a hundred years before.
She was not going to let it fold on her watch.
Throwing the car in Park, Meg grabbed her briefcase and all but ran to the office.
Henry and Veronica were long since gone.
“They left some financials for you to review,” Julia explained as soon as Meg walked inside. She took the thick folder and glanced down, cringed