Paige Torn by Erynn Mangum Page A

I’ve spent the whole night serving. Maybe that counts for my Bible reading today.

I have every intention of sleeping in the next morning. Sleep in, maybe watch a movie, make myself French toast, and work on the wreath that is still half finished in my closet.
    My phone buzzes at seven.
    I force my eyes open and look at it. It’s a text from Rick.
    C LAIRE E LISE. B ORN AT 2:13AM, 8 LBS 6 OZ, 22 IN LONG.
    Then he sends a picture of the new baby.
    I can’t really be mad about getting a text of a brand-new baby. I roll back over in bed and look at the picture of Rick and Natalie’s new daughter.
    She looks like every other newborn I’ve ever seen, and while I haven’t seen too many, I do notice that all of them have the same characteristics. Red, splotchy face, eyes squinched shut, mouth tight. She is wearing a striped hat on her head, so I can’t see if she has any hair.
    I text back. C ONGRATS YOU GUYS ! S HE’S BEAUTIFUL ! C AN’T WAIT TO MEET HER !
    I set my phone back on my nightstand, yawn, and snuggle back under the sheets. I close my eyes and burrow into the pillow.
    And lay there.
    I try flipping over to my back and putting my arms out to the side.
    Nothing.
    I moan. Seriously? I am just going to be up now? I roll back over and look at the clock. Seven fifteen.
    After lying in bed for another thirty minutes, I finally give up and just get up. I pull on my robe and pad out to the kitchen to start the coffeepot.
    Getting up early on a Saturday when there is absolutely no reason to is just depressing. My grandmother used to tell me about how she would wake up at six every single morning just out of habit. “It’s the most annoying thing,” she always said. “But I just can’t help it.”
    Heaven forbid that is already happening to me.
    The coffeepot starts gurgling, and I sit at the kitchen table with a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. I don’t even like Cheerios very much, but they were on sale and I’m getting low in my grocery budget for the week.
    So, Cheerios it is.
    I get up and pour myself a cup of coffee, add cream and sugar, and right when I am about to sit down again at the table, my phone buzzes again.
    It’s a number I don’t recognize, but I answer it anyway. “Hello?”
    â€œHi there, Auntie Paige,” Rick says. “I’m calling from the hospital room phone.”
    I grin. That answers my question. “Hi, new dad. How’s the daughter?”
    â€œPerfect in every way imaginable.” Rick is obviously gushing. “Oh, Paige, it’s the most amazing thing. You can’t even imagine what it feels like.”
    Considering the closest I’ve ever come to parenthood is being sort of responsible for taking care of the family dog when I was in the eighth grade, nope. I probably cannot imagine what it feels like.
    â€œAnyway. I’m calling for a couple of reasons. The nurses say Nat can have caffeine now since her milk hasn’t come in yet. And she really wants to see you.”
    I grin. I knew it was going to be like this. Not even a month ago, I was over at Rick and Natalie’s house for dinner, and they went on and on about how they didn’t want any visitors in the hospital after the baby was born. They wanted to just have time to bond as a new family. Neither Rick’s nor Natalie’s parents live in town, but I think both of them are planning to come after Natalie is released from the hospital.
    I look at the clock on the wall. Well, the no-company thing has lasted for about six hours.
    Rick and Natalie are too social to go too long without seeing anyone.
    â€œStarbucks then?” I ask Rick.
    â€œPlease. I’ll reimburse you when you get here.” His voice gets muffled. “Sweetie, you know what you want?”
    â€œA grande nonfat caramel latte,” I say along with Rick.
    â€œWow. You’re good,” he says.
    â€œNo, she’s just predictable. Anything