by Holly Jacobs
I opened the back door of the car and started to unbuckle Talia from her car seat. She woke up and blinked a few times and then smiled. Smiling was Talia’s default expression.
She was eleven months old now and was walking—well, more like running—everywhere.
“What happened to her eye?” Fi asked as I handed Talia to her aunt.
“She got into a wrestling match with the coffee table, and the coffee table won.” My daughter had an indomitable spirit. She had Logan’s eyes—a bluish gray that would always remind me of Lake Erie. But she had my hair. I took solace in the fact my hair was also Piper and Fiona’s hair.
It was a much more tangible connection than mitochondrial DNA.
“Hey, T. R.,” Fi said. “Come back into the garden. Papa made you a playhouse. It’s got . . .” Fi’s voice got lower as they disappeared along the side of the house and through the gate.
“We won’t see her again,” Logan said.
“At least not until she needs a diaper change. Fiona still proclaims quite loudly that aunts don’t change diapers. Last I heard, Piper was working on a book called Ants Don’t Change Pants.”
“I am,” Piper said. “I think it’s going to be the first of a new series. I’ve got a little rhyme in it.”
Talia Rose,
where do you suppose
the sun goes to at night?
It goes to sleep
in the boughs of the trees,
when I go to bed at night.
Talia Rose,
where do you suppose
the flowers go in the snow?
To sleep in the dirt,
where the cold won’t hurt,
that’s where they go when it snows.
Talia Rose,
where do you suppose
my love goes every day?
It’s in my heart
when we’re apart . . .
It’s in my hair,
in the rocks and the air.
It’s in the sky
and the clouds and your eyes . . .
Piper shrugged. “It’s a work in progress.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“So’s our T. R. Do you suppose I have a chance at getting a few hugs in?”
“You’re going to have to fight Fi for a turn,” I warned.
“Then why don’t we go back into the garden? I feel up to that wrestling match.” She raked a finger through her short, thick hair. It had grown in with two very prominent streaks of gray, but they made her look distinguished.
As we walked, she took my hand. Logan opened the garden gate, and we stepped into the garden.
I saw Ned tossing Talia up into the air. Both the baby and Fiona laughed as I stood between my husband and my Piper.
I worried for a long time about what to call her. I didn’t worry any more. I realize that the naming of things mattered, and I had accepted that I had many names for Piper. Birth mother, friend, family. Now she was grandmother to my daughter.
But what mattered most was that Piper was home.
I took Logan’s hand in mine.
“Welcome home, Talia Rose,” Fiona cried.
“Welcome home,” I whispered.
Note from the Author
January 2016
Dear Reader,
I love exploring the question of what makes a family. There is a never-ending supply of answers. Sometimes a family is made through genetics, but so often families are born through other paths. Adoption, marriage, friendship . . .
I think that the core answer to that question is that a family is always made through love. That’s one of the truths that Siobhan has to discover. The other truth is there is no such thing as a heart that’s filled to capacity. There’s always room for one more. And finally, she realizes that home isn’t a physical place . . . home is wherever there are people you love.
My kids are getting older and making their own homes. But as they’ve left to start their own lives, I’ve never felt sad because I know that wherever I am, they will always still have a home with me, too.
I hope readers who met Piper and Ned in Carry Her Heart enjoyed revisiting them ten years down the line. When I closed Carry Her Heart, they were beginning their own happily ever after. And maybe seeing them both suffering through Pip’s illness doesn’t seem like I delivered on that promise. But I think I did. Because though Pip’s sick, we see that their relationship is still strong. If anything, it’s become stronger because of her illness. They have Fiona, along with their friends and family. And after ten years of waiting, they have Siobhan.
Maybe that’s one of the points of the story. Life comes with hurdles. Sometimes just little bumps in the roads; sometimes tsunamis. But if we have people we love surrounding us and supporting us, there can be happiness even in the midst of pain. That’s what Piper and Ned have found. And that’s what Siobhan and Logan have found as well. Having someone who loves you completely, well that is a gift that can see you through the good times and the bad.
I do want to acknowledge that I talked with medical consultants about Pip’s illness, and I know I might have fudged the timeline on her transplant and homecoming, but I didn’t fudge anything when I talked about how many people are waiting for a gift of life like Siobhan was able to give Piper. And my hat’s off to everyone who’s been tested and has added their name to the registry. That kind of generosity of spirit is amazing.
I hope you enjoyed Hold Her Heart! Some of you might have spotted a cameo from a character in These Three Words. If so, keep an eye out., Alice, the nurse in that story, has her own book coming out soon.
If you’re a new reader, thank you so much for giving one of my stories a try. As always, I want to thank all of you so much for your continued support!
Holly
www.HollyJacobs.com
About the Author
Award-winning author Holly Jacobs has sold almost three million books worldwide. The first novel in her Everything But . . . series, Everything But a Groom, was named one of 2008’s Best Romances by Booklist, and her books have been honored with countless other accolades.
Holly has a wide range of interests, from her love for writing to gardening and even basket weaving. She has delivered more than sixty author workshops and keynote speeches across the country. She lives in Erie, Pennsylvania, with her family and her dogs. She frequently sets stories in and around her hometown.