watching her. The corner of his lip twitched in amusement at the scene before him, and he looked so incredibly loving and indulgent that Cora knew this was exactly what he’d hoped for.
She mouthed a quick thank you, her cheeks already hurting from smiling so wide. And when he blew her a kiss, Cora pinched herself. He was too good to be true. Way too good to be true.
So good, she knew she couldn’t believe it.
…
A few hours into the party, the mood had mellowed out perfectly. People were chilling around the yard, some sitting on the grass while others had dragged the outdoor chairs into a big cluster around one end of the table where all the food was.
Cora was full, everywhere. Full heart. Full belly. She nursed a plastic cup with the remains of one of the cocktails, the ice creating condensation on the glass that was pleasantly cooling to her hands. Skye and Maddy sat with her.
“You have a…” Skye leaned forward and brushed something from Cora’s cheek. “There we go. You had sprinkles on your face.”
“Thanks.”
“So, are you missing back home?” Maddy asked.
“I’m enjoying having a break from the real world,” Cora replied, although in the back of her mind, the answer was a resounding no with multiple exclamation points. The knowledge of that sat unevenly in her stomach, but she brushed it to one side. Who wanted to return home from a vacation? Nobody. That was totally normal. “It’s nice to take some time away.”
“I hear you.” Skye leaned back and rested on her elbows, her face tipped up to the sun. Her blond hair hung in two long braids down her back. “I’m well overdue for a holiday. But damn that overtime is too good to pass up.”
“Skye’s a workaholic,” Maddy added. “To her detriment, I might add.”
“Nah, I’m just being fiscally responsible.” She grinned and put her sunglasses on as the sun shifted out from behind a cloud. “Besides, I got a little one to take care of. That mouth isn’t going to feed itself.”
Cora blinked. “You’re a mom?”
“Yeah, I got a little girl named Annemarie.” A dark expression filtered over Skye’s face. “I’m lucky to have family help me out, because it’s not like her dad stuck around to give a shit about her.”
In moments where Cora was trying to find the good in her situation, she was thankful that Alex broke things off before they got married and had a baby like she was planning. Things were always so much more complicated when children got involved.
“I’m so sorry,” Cora said.
“Don’t be.” Skye shrugged. “I don’t need a man to complete my life. My family is all I need. Without them…I have no idea what I’d do. But it makes me sad that my baby girl won’t get to know her dad.”
For some reason, that comment made her think of Trent—he’d never know his real mother. Did he even know what he was missing? Or had his parents kept it a secret for that specific reason? Hard to miss someone if you didn’t know you’d had them in the first place.
She couldn’t let go of the memory of that photo. It was stuck in her head, like a slide image that refused to budge. A puzzle with a piece missing. A mystery with no conclusion.
It’s none of your business. Maybe they all talked about it and everything is fine. Just because your family is all kinds of messed up doesn’t mean everyone else’s is.
“Anyway,” Skye said. “This isn’t good birthday party chatter. We need something more positive.”
“Maybe Cora can tell us how the romance novels are going,” Maddy said. “Like the one Trent bought her for her birthday.”
Skye’s eyebrows shot up so fast that Cora was surprised they didn’t launch right off her head. About an hour into the party, Trent had pulled her inside the house to give her the present he’d bought her—a romance novel by a local author that had been signed in sparkly pink pen. He’d kissed her cheek so sweetly and told her he wanted to know as soon as she read it, in case there was any “inspiration” to be found inside.
“Excuse me, what?” Skye shook her head. “Maybe I’m not hearing right. Trent purchased a book? Like one of those things with a front cover and a back cover and pages full of words in between?”
Maddy grinned. “Yep, one of those exactly.”
“Trent Walters, the man who once petitioned to get out of English class because