Mercy Kill_ A Mystery - Lori Armstrong [113]
“My pleasure. Anything you need?”
A shot of Wild Turkey. “No, I’m good. Your wife laid out quite a spread for us. I can’t thank her enough.”
“Barbara lives for this kinda stuff.”
Hope waved at me frantically from across the room. “Leo, if you’ll excuse me.” I wove through the crowd until I reached my sister. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing. Good news for a change. I’ve been talking to Kit. He has a line on a new double-wide trailer outside of Rapid that was in mortgage default. He said me ’n’ Jake can look at it tomorrow. Isn’t that exciting?”
“Very. Where would you put it?”
Hope switched Joy to her left hip. “Where my old trailer was. Like Jake said, all the hookups are already in place, so it’d be a quick move in.”
“But you’ll be okay living there?”
“It wasn’t the location I hated, Mercy. It was the trailer. I hated the reminder that Levi wouldn’t ever slam that crappy door again. Or leave his pop cans all over the living room.” Her eyes welled with tears, and she hugged Joy closer. “There was just too much of him in such a small space. I felt like I was suffocating in the silence of him not being there.”
“Hope—”
“I’m okay. I miss him. Not an hour goes by that I don’t think of him.”
Instead of witnessing the pain in my sister’s eyes, I poked Joy’s jelly belly. “You deserve a place of your own. But the house will be empty and quiet with you guys gone. I’ll miss you all.”
“Prove it.” Hope thrust Joy between us.
“Whoa. What are you doing?”
“Making you hold your niece. She’s five months old. Don’t you think it’s time?”
“I just can’t—”
“Yes, you can. You did last night. I watched you.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I still don’t know why you were bleeding, but I figure if you’d wanted me to know, you’d tell me.” She stepped closer. “Now. Go on. Take her.”
I panicked and started to back up. “But—”
“No buts.” Hope softened her tone. “Mercy. You won’t drop her. I promise. I’ll be right here.”
Shame heated my cheeks. “How did you know—”
“Sophie told me. I trust you with her. But, that said, I wasn’t gonna let you hold her when you were drinkin’ all the damn time.” Her eyes narrowed on mine. “You haven’t been sneaking shots of whiskey tonight?”
I shook my head. Then I looked at Joy’s perfect little face, her tiny little body. I had guns that weighed more than she did. The next thing I knew, Hope was pressing Joy against my chest. My heart galloped. “Wait a sec.”
“You’re fine. Just hold her with your left arm, like this”—she pulled my forearm across Joy’s rounded belly—“and slide your right arm under her butt. Perfect. She likes to face the front so she can see what’s going on.”
Joy made a funny noise, then turned her head to stare at me. Were her eyes scared? Did she sense my fear? Would she take advantage of my inexperience and squirm out of my arms?
Something else caught her interest, and she looked away.
Whew. I didn’t bounce her or adjust my position. At all. I was statue aunt.
Hope beamed. “See? Is that so bad?”
“Umm. No.”
“So, after me ’n’ Joy and Jake move out of the main house, are you gonna come clean about the guy you’ve been seein’ on the sly?”
“What guy?”
She smirked. “Nice try, but I even know who it is.”
I ignored the spike in my pulse. “Do tell, little sis.”
Hope whispered, “Bobby Sprague.”
“Eww. That’s gross.” Bobby Sprague was the fat, mean, stupid kid that everyone had hated. As an adult he was still fat, mean, and stupid, and I avoided him like Sophie’s bran-pumpkin muffins.
Joy grunted and wiggled. My pulse spiked again. “Umm, Hope? I think Poopy’s trying to escape.”
“C’mere, baby girl. We’ve taken up enough of Aunt Mercy’s time.” Hope plucked Joy from my arms. “And stop calling her Poopy.”
For the next hour, I paced, although it appeared I was mingling. My cheeks ached from smiling. Geneva and the election crew were falsely upbeat, so I suspected either Rollie or Kit had an inside source for the preliminary election results.
Things weren’t looking good for team Gunderson.
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