Violet
“I feel like I’m going to explode,” Leighton complains a week later as we clean up from a crazy breakfast rush at The Café.
“You’re pregnant and due in a few weeks. You’re supposed to feel that way,” I remind her as I pull out a chair for her. “Have a seat, prop those feet up, and let me do the work.”
“Funny, sometimes Holden says the same thing, only not about cleaning up.” She has this naughty look on her face that is one hundred percent my friend.
I’ve been worried about her since they positively identified her mother’s body. Especially with the holidays fast approaching, I’m wondering how she’s going to handle it. Hopefully with a baby to care for, she won’t dwell on it too much. I’ve watched her since she was given the information, and except for the first few days after it happened, she seems to be doing well. Leighton’s a fighter, and I expected nothing less from her.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” I ask as I go around, wiping off the tables.