Authors: Emma Heatherington
Tags: #Contemporary Fiction, #Humor, #Contemporary Women, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary, #Romance, #Sagas, #New Adult & College, #Inspirational, #Women's Fiction, #Literature & Fiction
“O
f
cours
e
I
will
,
love,
”
sh
e
said
,
jus
t
a
s
sh
e
always did
.
Sh
e
woul
d
hav
e
t
o
temporaril
y
ignor
e
th
e
res
t
o
f
her
‘t
o
do
’
lis
t
fo
r
th
e
evening
.
S
o
wha
t
i
f
thing
s
ra
n
hal
f
an hou
r
behind
?
Sh
e
coul
d
bat
h
th
e
twin
s
whe
n
sh
e
go
t
back. Th
e
stair
s
woul
d
wait
.
Gin
a
neede
d
he
r
help
.
So
,
wit
h
a
quic
k
brib
e
o
f
a
promis
e
o
f
a
Milk
y
Ba
r
,
Poll
y
packe
d
he
r
twin
s
an
d
Gina
’
s
onl
y
child
,
six-yea
r
-old Dann
y
,
int
o
he
r
Jeep
,
ran
g
Johnny
’
s
mu
m
acros
s
th
e
road
to
keep
Frankie
till
she
got
back
and
set
off
to
the
Spar
to
hel
p
Gin
a
i
n
he
r
hou
r
o
f
need
,
rememberin
g
en-rout
e
that
sh
e
neede
d
ham
.
An
d
bread
.
An
d
toile
t
rol
l
.
.
.
gosh
,
it
reall
y
neve
r
ende
d
an
d
despit
e
th
e
whirlin
g
lis
t
tha
t
was circulatin
g
he
r
brain
,
he
r
trouble
s
ha
d
onl
y
reall
y
begun
.
Becaus
e
whe
n
sh
e
ra
n
int
o
th
e
Spa
r
t
o
gra
b
a
fe
w
bits an
d
pieces
,
Poll
y
bumpe
d
int
o
Rut
h
Monaghan
.
No
t
metaphoricall
y
.
O
h
no
.
I
n
he
r
spee
d
t
o
ge
t
bac
k
to th
e
twin
s
i
n
th
e
ca
r
sh
e
actuall
y
bumpe
d
int
o
Ruth Monagha
n
besid
e
th
e
T
oile
t
Duc
k
an
d
knocke
d
a
glass-
covere
d
ai
r
freshene
r
ou
t
o
f
he
r
hand
s
s
o
tha
t
i
t
smashed int
o
smithereen
s
al
l
ove
r
th
e
supermarke
t
floo
r
.
“I’
m
s
o
sorr
y
–
toile
t
rol
l
–
twin
s
i
n
ca
r
,
”
sh
e
mumbled
lik
e
a
lunatic
,
bu
t
i
t
wa
s
onl
y
whe
n
pickin
g
u
p
th
e
pieces
o
f
th
e
citrus-scente
d
Ai
r
W
ic
k
tha
t
sh
e
caugh
t
sigh
t
o
f
the othe
r
lady
’
s
equall
y
flustere
d
fac
e
an
d
the
y
recognised
eac
h
othe
r
wit
h
grea
t
surprise
.
Rut
h
Monagha
n
looke
d
lik
e
sh
e
ha
d
wo
n
th
e
Lotter
y
.
Sh
e
reall
y
did
.
Poll
y
looke
d
lik
e
she’
d
see
n
a
ghost
.
Sh
e
reall
y
had.
“Poll
y
W
oodhead
!”
screeche
d
Ruth,
totall
y
ove
r
-
emphasisin
g
Polly
’
s
maide
n
surname
.
“Swee
t
Jesus
,
it
’
s
bee
n
years,
”
sai
d
Poll
y
,
an
d
Ruth nodded
,
muc
h
mor
e
flabbergaste
d
tha
n
Poll
y
was
.
And tha
t
wa
s
a
lot
.
“Poll
y
,
i
s
i
t
.
.
.
?
I
s
i
t
reall
y
you
?
Wha
t
o
n
eart
h
has happene
d
t
o
you
r
hair?
”
An
d
jus
t
a
s
Poll
y
use
d
t
o
i
n
hig
h
school
,
sh
e
wante
d
to thum
p
he
r
s
o
har
d
he
r
hea
d
woul
d
spin
.
Bu
t
jus
t
a
s
in
hig
h
school
,
sh
e
didn
’
t
.
Sh
e
smile
d
an
d
sai
d
something totall
y
sof
t
an
d
stupi
d
instead
:
“
I
knel
t
o
n
a
piec
e
o
f
Lego.
I’
m
no
t
reall
y
feelin
g
mysel
f
toda
y
.
An
d
I’
m
Poll
y
Kno
x
no
w
.
I’
m
married.
”
Poll
y
wante
d
t
o
ad
d
i
n
th
e
wor
d
‘happily
’
bu
t
tha
t
woul
d
hav
e
bee
n
a
stretc
h
o
f
th
e
trut
h
i
n
t
h
e
d
ay
th
at
wa
s
i
n
it
.