Page 1 of With A Little Luck
Prologue
Quincy
My stomach wobbles as I glance between Donna, my gran’s care nurse, and the front door.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I ask, running my hands down the sides of my dress.
God, I really need a night to myself, but if she says no, I’ll change back into my pajamas and binge terrible reality TV.
I might cry if that comes to pass.
I’ll still do it, though.
I’m starting to get a twinge of caregiver burnout, and I don’t even have it all that bad.
Donna chuckles, rolling her dark brown eyes. “I can take care of her as easily at night as I can during the day.” She shrugs. “It helps that I don’t have to work tomorrow. Go on, get out of here. You deserve a night to yourself.”
She points at the front door, and my teeth dig into my lower lip. I had no idea how hard being a caregiver would be. My mom and her parents were never particularly close, and she wasn’t willing to come to Vermont to look after Gran, so I did.
It’s been okay.
A little awkward, since I grew up in Florida and only got to see her a few times throughout my childhood.
But that’s what families are supposed to do, right?
You look out for each other.
Gran is the last one left in her family pack, and losing her last bondmate six months ago was rough. Physically, she’s still trucking along, but emotionally, it’s clear she’s ready to be with my grandpas.
I thought I would come and support Gran until her time comes, then take my backside right back to Florida.
I never planned to meet anyone while I was here.
I’m not sure I’m hardcore enough to brave the Vermont winter, but meeting Pete made me question if maybe I could tough it out.
When Gran needed less help, I was able to see him two or three nights a week. The last two months, I’ve barely been able to get away, at least at night. Five days a week, Donna is at the house to help out, but Pete works during the day, making coordinating our schedules difficult.
He’s been distant the last few weeks—maybe longer, if I’m being truthful with myself.
My plan to swing by his office at closing to invite him out to dinner, just the two of us, seemed fun at first. Now, I’m nervous. What if he thinks I’m a total weirdo for dropping by unannounced?
“You better get your rear end in gear before you procrastinate for so long that you miss him,” Donna says, startling me out of my thoughts.
“Thank you. Call me if you needanything.” And with that, I bolt toward the door.
Leaving the house tonight was my first mistake.
I had a bad feeling, and that pit in my gut was right. I never should have second-guessed my intuition.
I swipe my hand under my eyes, frowning at the mascara smudging the side of my pointer finger.
Crying is ridiculous.
Embarrassing, really.
Pete and I weren’t together long enough for it to even matter.
My head shakes violently as I try to force away the image of what I walked in on when I showed up to surprise him.
