CHAPTER 8
Harper had to giveherself a pep talk over breakfast. Today was the day she would take that letter to Mason. The last week had been a disaster, to put it mildly. Her painting still wasn’t coming together. Her ads weren’t churning up any sales. Her mother seemed to take great joy in calling and checking up on her. Every. Single. Day.
And that stupid letter sitting on the coffee table was almost all Harper could think about. She knew it wasn’t that important, but in her falling apart world, it seemed like one thing she could control. She was at the mercy of her skills when it came to her art. She had absolutely no control over her mother. She couldn’t force patrons to buy her paintings, but she absolutely could take the mail down to Mason’s and say her personal goodbye.
“Because you’re an adult,” she told herself in the bathroom mirror as she wadded her hair up in a bun on top of her head. “That’s what adults do. They do hard things.” She stared at the dark rings under her eyes and sighed. There was no makeup in the world that would be able to cover the fact that she wasn’t sleeping well.
On the plus side, her pants were a little looser than they had been before. Apparently, going stark, raving mad was good for the waistline.
Closing her eyes, she shook her head. This was as good as it was going to get. She wasn’t trying to impress Mason. She was simply giving him his check and walking out of his life. End of story.
A half hour later, she was driving down the street to Mason’s house. Unlike last time, she could see the lights on and the garage was open, his large truck half in and half out. She frowned as she stepped out of the car, hearing loud screaming coming from inside.
It was so different than what she would have expected that Harper looked around, double checking she had pulled into the right driveway. It sounded like a pack of hyenas were loose inside and Harper almost climbed back into her car and left him to whatever chaos was going on. It didn’t sound like a good time to knock on his door.
Before getting back in the car, Harper hesitated. She couldn’t keep putting this off. She needed to get at least one weight off of her shoulders and this was the only one available to her. It had to be done.
Squaring her shoulders, she shut the door and headed up the front steps. Whatever was going on in there would have to wait for just a moment so Harper could say what she needed to say.
She knocked, loudly, then clasped her hands in front of her, squashing the envelope between her fingers.
“Hold on!” Mason bellowed, causing Harper to stumble back a step.
There was more shuffling inside and another loud scream before the door was yanked open. Mason stood in a T-shirt and jeans, looking worse than Harper had ever seen him. His eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot. His hair stood up on end and his beard looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in several days. “Harper?” He blinked and scrubbed his face. “What are you doing here?”
Harper’s eyes widened and those shaking hands went straight to her hips. “Um...” She had no idea what to say. What in the world had happened during the time he was gone?
Mason continued to stare as if he wasn’t sure she was real.
Harper threw up her hands. “I came to give you some mail that was accidentally sent to my house. I wasn’t expecting to have my head bitten off.” Though, maybe it’s for the best, she had to admit. It made it easier to think of leaving if he was being rude.
Mason deflated and he rubbed his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t...” He sighed. “It wasn’t...” He shook his head, seemingly unable to finish a full sentence.
Harper waited, but he didn’t seem to have an explanation for her. “Whatever.” She held out the envelope. “Here. See ya around.”
“Harper...”
She paused, part of her hoping he would say more, but he didn’t. She shouldn’t want him to say anything else. This was the perfect way for her to leave without any leftover attachments.
Then why is this so hard?
She was fighting her nurturing instincts. Almost every part of her wanted to rush up and envelop Mason in a hug. He looked like he needed help, even more than she did. She wanted to listen and brainstorm and help him overcome whatever had him tied in knots, but it wasn’t her place.
It’ll never be my place.
With her heart in her throat, Harper began to walk away, but turned when she heard another scream. Looking over her shoulder, Harper almost stumbled to the ground when a toddler approached Mason with her arms up and tears pouring down her cheeks. She looked to Mason, who appeared so weary he was going to fall over.
He picked up the little girl and propped her on his hip. “I’m sorry, Harper,” he said tightly. “It’s not a good time.”
“What in the world?” Harper’s feet moved toward the house before she could stop herself. She stopped in front of Mason and put a hand on the child’s back. “Whose baby is this?”
Mason closed his eyes. “This is my niece, Layla.” When he opened them again, there was such a depth of sorrow that Harper almost burst into tears on his behalf. “My...sister was killed...in an accident.”
Harper gasped, her hand covering her mouth. “No.” It really was a family emergency.
“And I’ve been appointed Layla’s guardian.”
Harper froze. “You what?”
Mason sighed. “I know,” he said, bouncing the little girl slightly. She laid her dark head down on Mason’s shoulder and her eyelids drooped. It was definitely naptime.
“Look, why don’t you go put her down and then you can tell me what happened,” Harper suggested. Her thoughts of leaving and saying her own mental goodbyes were gone. This whole situation wasn’t about her anymore. Mason didn’t just need help, he needed an intervention. What was his sister thinking by handing the baby over to an unmarried brother who had no experience with children?
Mason shook his head. “I appreciate the thought, but I can’t. She won’t sleep unless I’m holding her.”
Harper frowned. “You can’t do that, Mason. You’ll never get sleep yourself. Just put her in her crib. She’s exhausted, she’ll fall asleep.”
“A crib? Is that what children her age sleep in?” He huffed. “I thought she would be too big for that.”
Harper blinked, trying to process his words. “Mason...” she said carefully. “You do have a crib, right?”
He shook his head.
Harper looked around, noting the mess in the family room. Torn diapers, tipped over glasses, plates and cups, small broken toys, and shredded paper littered nearly every surface. It looked like a pack of monkeys had been let loose. She turned back to Mason. “Do you have any baby equipment?”
Mason shook his head. “Don’t they only use special stuff for newborns? She’s two. I thought...” He trailed off. “I’m guessing I was wrong.”
Harper nodded and patted his arm, ignoring the thrill that gave her. “Listen. You’re both exhausted. Lay down and take a nap...both of you.” She gave him a tight smile. Looked like she wouldn’t be doing any more painting today. “I’ll be back soon.”
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