One Wish (Thunder Point #7)(32)

“Did I hear you talking?” he asked.

She still gripped the phone. She lifted it and showed him. “My cousin, Dickie. Remember, his daughter was the one whose baby died—crib death.”

“Yeah,” he said, kind of wearily. He sat down beside her. “I wasn’t likely to forget about that.” In fact, way back in Al’s youth when he was a young husband, he and his wife had lost their only child the very same way. Al had spent decades trying to run away from that sorrow. “Poor thing.”

“Well, she’s not good. She’s not getting better. She’s grief stricken and they’ve tried everything from medication to counseling and Dickie wants me to take her in for a while, even if it’s only a few weeks.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because she was my little princess and always loved staying with me. But she’s not a little princess now—she’s a thirty-year-old woman whose baby died and I don’t think I can help her get over it with facials and mani-pedis.” She looked up at him. “I wouldn’t have the first idea what to do. I might just make it worse.”

Al shifted into the bed, stretching out his long legs as he leaned against the headboard. He pulled her back into his arms. “Ray Anne, just being you puts a smile on most faces. You’re kind and sweet and funny—maybe that would lighten her spirits a little bit. You could let her talk about it.”

“Ugh,” she said before she could stop herself.

“I know, I know. But they know you’re not a professional counselor. I mean, your cousin and his missus. They don’t expect you to cure her or anything, right? They just want her to have a safe place to go, right?”

“I think so,” she said. “The poor thing. Her marriage was breaking up when she was barely pregnant, so she was alone. Had the baby alone. She moved back with her parents so she could take three months off work and she never went back because... How do you get someone over something like that?”

“Honey, you don’t,” Al said, pulling her closer against him, holding her in the crook of his big arm. “You can’t get someone over something. All you can do is give ’em a little love and space and pray. You pray, baby?”

She laughed in a short, sarcastic huff. “All my damn life, but my prayers weren’t very holy. ‘Please God, let that big stud buy me a drink.’”

He laughed at her. “I think you should let her come.”

“You do? Like we don’t have enough complications...”

“I think if you don’t, you might not get over it later. Sometimes we have to do things like that just to keep from having too many regrets.” He kissed her forehead. “Might have to get a room at the Coast Motel again.” Then he laughed.

“She doesn’t work,” Ray Anne said. “What am I going to do with her?”

“You should talk to your girls—Lou and Carrie. They’ve been through some rough times. So have you, for that matter.”

Indeed, she had. An abusive husband, a couple of acrimonious divorces, getting financially wiped out by at least one of them. That was just for starters. She’d learned a lot, been around the block a time or two.

She’d even lost a child, but hardly anyone knew about that. And her baby hadn’t died the way Ginger’s had. Hers was a secret teenage mishap that ended sadly and she’d never talked about until very recently.

“I’m not smart or wise enough,” she said.

“You’re the smartest woman I know. And you’re so full of love I can’t even hold all of you.”

She turned her head to look up at him. “I’ve never had anyone like you in my life before. Really, I haven’t. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I feel the same,” he said.

“We’ve got an awful lot on our plates,” she said.

“Bounty,” he said. “That’s what we call a full plate. Bounty.”

“Hope it doesn’t kill us,” Ray Anne said.

* * *

Al planned to take his two younger boys to the high school basketball game on Friday night. Lou’s husband, Joe, was a trooper who worked the swing shift four nights a week and Carrie didn’t open the deli early on Saturday mornings. Friday night was a perfect night to get together with her girlfriends, so Ray Anne reached out to see if they felt like a little hen party at her house—a little wine and whine.

“Come to my house, instead, and I’ll put out some snacks. You bring the wine and I’ll invite Gina,” Carrie said, including her daughter, who was also Lou’s niece-in-law. “If Mac is working or something, she’ll just sit around at home. If that’s okay with you.”

Of course Gina was a welcome addition, anytime. For a woman under forty, she was very prudent in the ways of the world. When Ray Anne arrived at Carrie’s, the others were already there and Rawley was just leaving. “You’re not staying for the hen party?” she asked.

“I ain’t no hen,” he said, pulling down his cap. “Thought I explained that.”

“Rawley is babysitting tonight,” Carrie said from behind him. “Cooper and Sarah want to go out without the baby.”

“Really?” Ray Anne asked. “How are you with babies?”