Forever Your Girl by Jenny B. Jones

Author:Jenny B. Jones [Jones, Jenny B.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sweet Pea Productions

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Daisy will be fine,” Charlie says for the third time Friday morning as he navigates the car down Harris Lane for her respite drop-off.

In the back, Daisy, who plays with a toy that deceptively looks like a tablet, is oblivious to the fact that I’m seconds away from bursting into tears, and none of this feels right. Not leaving her, not the fact that I’m a mess that I’m leaving her, not the plane we’ll catch in three hours, and maybe not this rushed wedding.

The British-voiced GPS sounds especially aggressive with her directions this morning, providing updates with a frequency that borders on the neurotic.

“In a fourth mile, turn on Wyatt Street. In three hundred feet, prepare to turn on Wyatt Street. In two hundred and ninety-five feet prepare to get prepared to turn on Wyatt Street.

“We don’t even know these people.” I shoot a look in the backseat to make sure Daisy is still fully occupied with the beeps and dings of her talking toy.

“Iola seems to know them.” Charlie makes the turn that the GPS has all but harassed us to take, only for the voice to follow up with warnings of a roundabout. “Mrs. Smartley’s not going to recommend a family we can’t trust.”

He says that like he knows the system. As if he’s been in foster care instead of the insulated, comfortable cocoon of the nuclear family that raised him.

I look out the window and rub a hand over my face, wishing I could wipe away my anxiety and overall terrible mood. “I’m sorry.”

Charlie shoots me a quick look. “For what?”

“For all the snarky thoughts I didn’t just say.”

“Forgiven.”

The car zips through the roundabout, and I wish it could be a time-traveling portal, throwing us into an easier, better world when we round the circle. A world where all kids have loving parents and ridiculous amounts of wholeness and self-esteem. A magical place where I don’t fear screwing up the biggest job of my life. A jolly spot where the knot in my stomach unravels, making more room for nachos and less room for wedding terrors. Where I don’t feel rushed onto a plane so we can sprint through our I Do’s.

Instead, the road empties us into a small community called Mayflower, forty minutes outside of In Between and on the way to the Houston airport. When we arrive at 9032 Sailor Circle, it’s everything I can do not to tell Charlie to keep on driving. Daisy sits at attention, looking like she’s considering a tantrum. Last night when I gently told her she’d have to spend five days with new friends, it involved lots of crying. And that was just Charlie. Daisy didn’t take it too well, either.

“Where are we?” Daisy’s tablet slips into the floorboard as she leans forward as much as her car seat will allow.

“This is Cassie Edwards’ house.” Opening the car door, I act like we’ve just arrived at Disneyworld. “She’s has a pool and a daughter your age, and she said she can’t wait to do some crafts.

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