Page 66 of Through the Storm

PACKAGES

The first packagearrives Tuesday afternoon. I’m sitting at Grandma Patty’s kitchen table, eating my third sandwich, when the doorbell rings.

Declan gets it.

Thirty seconds later, he’s back in the kitchen holding a medium-sized box and wearing the exact expression he had the time he walked in on me and Ella trying to figure out how to use my breast pump.

“Why is there a box addressed to you,” he asks slowly, “from Bass Pro Shop?”

I blink. “Oh.”

“Oh?” he repeats.

Before I can explain, the doorbell rings again.

And again.

By the fourth trip, Declan is stacking boxes by the wall like he’s building a fort.

“What is happening?”

Grandma Patty peers over her glasses. “Looks like nesting to me.”

“It’s not nesting,” Declan mutters. “It says from Jason. Who the hell is Jason?”

I glance at the return labels and feel my cheeks heat.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

Declan squints. “Why is there one from Dick’s Sporting Goods?”

I wince. “Okay, so… remember how I’m friends with some guys from the football team?”

His head snaps up. “What guys?”

Grandma Patty is already standing. “Open them,” she says brightly, clapping her hands. “I love surprises.”

“You do not need to open them,” Declan mutters.

I ignore him, obviously.

The first box contains a tiny football onesie with Jason’s number.

The second has a soft gray baby blanket with “Future MVP” stitched on the corner.

The third box has a pair of cute baby socks with little footballs on them.

I press a hand to my mouth, laughing and crying at the same time.

Declan stares at the pile. “Why are multiple grown men sending my sister’s baby sports-themed gifts?”

Grandma Patty hums approvingly. “Because they’re being nice. Stop being a grump.”

“Grandma,” Declan says, “this is not normal.”

She picks up the blanket and rubs it between her fingers. “Who sent this one?”

I check the note. “Ethan.”