Promises to Keep, Nan Rossiter [feel good fiction books .txt] 📗

to be more careful about everything she said . . . and did! She also remembered the crazy things she’d done as a teenager, and even though Harper wasn’t a teenager yet, it wouldn’t be long. Heaven help them if she even came close to tempting fate like she and her friends had!

“Whatever you say, Mom,” Harper teased, and Macey smiled. They were both still getting used to Harper’s new moniker for her, and Maeve, knowing how much her sister had been through—wanting more than anything to be a mom and enduring five heartbreaking miscarriages—before becoming Harper’s mom, looked over the little girl’s head with raised eyebrows and smiled at her sister.

“Here we are,” Maeve said, stopping in front of the business that advertised body piercings. Harper sighed. “Maybe we should wait.”

“I thought you were looking forward to this,” Macey said. “You’ve been bugging me for weeks.”

“I know, but I’m not a fan of pain.”

“Don’t worry,” Maeve said. “You’ll be fine. I’ll even go first.”

“You are getting something pierced?” Harper asked.

“Yep. I’m getting a second earring.”

“You are?!”

“Mm-hmm.”

“She’s having a midlife crisis,” Macey teased, eyeing her sister. “Seriously, Maeve, if you want to surprise Gage, you should pierce your belly button.”

“Or your tongue!” Harper chimed. “He’d really be surprised when he kisses you!”

“Why would he be surprised then?” Maeve said, feigning innocence. “I only kiss on the lips.”

“Yeah, right!” Harper said, laughing.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Maeve said, trying not to smile even though Harper’s laugh was contagious.

“Umm . . . remember . . . in the movie? How Frenchie got her name?” Harper asked, trying to regain her composure.

“Because she was good at French?” Maeve asked.

“At French kissing,” Harper said, rolling her eyes and unable to believe her aunt was so naive.

Macey bit her lip, trying not to laugh, too, and eyed her sister. “I told you that movie was a bad idea.”

“Hey, don’t blame me!” Maeve said. “You’re the one who started singing ‘There Are Worse Things I Could Do.’ . . .”

Harper finally regained her composure and straightened up. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. I didn’t learn anything new from that movie. I saw Animal House when I was eight.”

“Good Lord!” Macey exclaimed, shaking her head in dismay, and then changed the subject and asked, “Are we going in, or not?”

“We are,” Harper confirmed, pulling open the door.

Macey shook her head, and Maeve laughed, knowing her sister was going to have her hands full.

A half hour later, they were all sitting at a table by the window in Back in the Day Bakery. Maeve and Macey ordered Sunny Day Biscuits—one of the bakery’s signature menu offerings—and Harper opted for a Cinnamon Swirl.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” Maeve said, taking a sip of coffee.

Harper reached up and touched her new earrings. “It hurt, but it was worth it. How do they look?”

“Ahh-mazing!”

“I can’t wait to wear the second pair we got—the silver and pink ones,” Harper said, grinning.

Macey eyed her. “You have to wear the gold ones for at least a week and you have to wash your hands before touching them.”

Harper rolled her eyes and looked at Maeve. “Don’t touch your ear, Aunt Maeve!”

“You don’t want to get an infection,” Macey said, eyeing her sister, too. “Either of you!”

“Got it, Mom,” Maeve said, laughing. “We have our instructions, right, Harp?”

“Yup! Wash your hands. Use rubbing alcohol and ointment twice a day, and gently turn your earrings . . . but only after you wash your hands.”

Now it was Macey’s turn to roll her eyes. “I’m glad you both understand—you really don’t want an infection!”

Just then the waitress brought their orders and Macey took a bite of her biscuit. “So when’s the next convening of The Pepperoni Pizza and Root Beer Book Club?” she asked, brushing the crumbs from her lips.

Maeve raised her eyebrows. “I thought it was tonight . . .”

“I thought so, too,” Harper said. “We have to find out what’s happening in the garden!”

Macey pulled out her phone. “Didn’t you get my text?” She opened her messages and realized she’d never finished sending her most recent text to her sister. “Dang. I forgot to hit send. Well, anyway, Ben’s coming down with a cold—he probably caught one of the many germs I bring home from the office, so I thought we could do it next weekend.”

Maeve nodded, knowing her sister’s job as a physician assistant at Savannah Pediatrics put her in constant contact with sneezing, coughing kids. “Next weekend works for me . . . but won’t you all be getting ready for the picnic?”

“Oh, shoot! Is that next Sunday?!” Macey asked. “Honestly, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached!”

“It’s not a big deal, right, Harp? We’ll reconvene in a couple of weeks.”

“It’s fine . . .” Harper said, nodding and thinking about how much she wanted to find out what was happening in the world of Mary, Colin, and Dickon. “Or I could read on my own and we could watch the movie at our next meeting.”

“What?!” Maeve teased. “Read without me?!”

Harper laughed. “You’ve already read it.”

“I’m just teasing,” Maeve assured her. “You can read it . . . although you’re the one who fell asleep and put an abrupt end to our reading last time.”

“You’re right. I’ll wait,” Harper said, smiling. “What book are we reading next?”

Maeve raised her eyebrows mysteriously. “I have something in mind.”

“What?” Harper asked eagerly.

“I’m not telling because you’ll probably start reading it.”

“No, I won’t,” Harper said, laughing. “I promise.”

Maeve shook her head. “Nope. You have to wait and see.”

“Dang,” Harper said.

Macey laughed. “I’m sorry to mess up your plans.”

“No worries,” Maeve said. “We’ll get through it, won’t we, Harp?”

The little redhead nodded and popped the last of her Cinnamon Swirl into her mouth, and Macey smiled at her easygoing attitude. Harper had come such a long way in the year she’d been living with them—from an untrusting, withdrawn little girl with a barely penetrable wall around her to a funny, fun-loving spitfire with a shy smile who loved to tease Ben at every opportunity, and even called him Daddy-O (which Macey thought was quite fitting because she’d grown up calling him kiddo). She