Happily This Christmas (Happily Inc #6) - Susan Mallery Page 0,41
at Joylyn and grinned. “Bought diapers.” Her smile faded. “I got myself into a two-year graphics program at a local community college, and I worked my butt off to be the best student I could. After I graduated I got a job in the business and continued to learn the industry. When I found out about a business for sale in some little town I’d never heard of, I came to check it out. That was ten years ago.”
“You’re really brave.”
“No. I was scared every second, but I recognized the chance I’d been given. I was determined not to blow it. I wanted more than I had, and I was going to make it happen.”
Joylyn was pretty sure that was the definition of being brave. That if you weren’t scared, then there was no courage in the act. She wondered if she’d been in the same circumstances if she would have acted the same or if she would have crumbled and given up. She couldn’t think of a single time in her life when she’d been the least bit brave. Or even determined. If she were honest with herself, she had a feeling she would have to admit that when the going got tough, she found a place to hide until all the bad stuff went away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THANKSGIVING MORNING GARRICK got up early to make the Waldorf salad. He’d gone to the grocery store the day before, shocked at the crowds and the long lines to check out. But he’d wanted to have all their traditions in place. He had ingredients for the salad and the blueberry pancakes he always made on the special morning. He’d also bought yellow roses—Joylyn’s favorite—for the kitchen table. He knew her plans were to return to Phoenix as soon as Chandler was home, so the week before Christmas she would be leaving. This was the only holiday he was going to get to spend with his little girl.
By seven the salad was assembled and in the refrigerator, ready to take over to Wynn’s later that afternoon. He had batter ready for the pancakes and coffee brewing. As he wasn’t sure what time Joylyn would get up, he busied himself going online to study patterns for bassinets.
The idea had come to him a couple of days ago. He wanted to give his daughter something special for her baby. Joylyn and Chandler had a gift registry and he’d looked over that. There were a lot of great items, but rather than buy any of them, he was going to give the new parents money to use as they liked. But he also wanted to give them something personal. He’d always enjoyed woodworking and had made a few pieces of furniture. From what he’d learned online, a simple wooden bassinet wouldn’t be too difficult a project. If he got started this weekend, he should have it finished in plenty of time.
A little before eight, Joylyn wandered into the kitchen.
“Morning,” he said cheerfully. “Happy Thanksgiving.”
“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, her expression neutral.
He tried to find comfort in the fact that she wasn’t glaring at him. Progress. Of course it was still early—there was plenty of time for her to get pissed at him for no reason.
He poured her juice. “Do you want bacon with your blueberry pancakes?”
“Yes, please.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked as she took a seat at the table.
“Awful, but regular awful. Nothing worse.”
“Counting the days?” he asked sympathetically.
She rubbed her belly. “Being pregnant is harder than I thought it would be.”
He knew her doctor’s appointment the previous day had gone well, so there were no physical concerns about the baby, but just looking at her belly and the way her back bowed when she walked made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t imagine having to live it.
He was just about to pour the batter on the griddle when her phone chimed. Joylyn glanced at the screen before smiling at him.
“It’s Chandler. Can we hold off on breakfast?”
“Sure,” he said, even though he was already talking to her retreating back. She ran down the hall and disappeared into her room.
He stood at the counter, not sure if he should make his own breakfast or wait for her to come back. He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance of him picking wrong regardless, but he erred on the side of waiting. It seemed more polite.
As Joylyn took her call, Garrick carried his coffee out to the living room and stared out the big front window. He supposed he should be