The Girl I Used to Be: A gripping and emotional page-turner Heidi Hostetter (best ereader under 100 .txt) 📖

“You good with everything else?” Irene asked Danny as she produced an enormous urn of coffee and handed it to Jill. The urn was heavy, but it was warm, and the smell of fresh, hot coffee was heaven. Jill’s stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in a while.

“Come to think of it,” Danny answered. “I think we might be low on cups—”

“Say no more.” Irene rounded the counter and tucked a fat tube of insulated cups under Jill’s arm. When she was finished, she patted Jill’s arm. “There ya go, honey. All set.”

Jill said nothing.

“Thanks, Aunt Irene.” Danny’s tone fizzled with suppressed laughter.

“You got it, sweetie,” she replied. “See ya for Sunday dinner. Don’t f’get to bring your brothers.”

Jill and Danny crossed the street to the firehouse where the crew waited eagerly for their morning break. Danny was swarmed almost immediately, which was fine with her because in the frenzy were interesting pictures. Coffee and muffin forgotten for the moment, Jill pulled out her camera and started work.

The shiny fire engine parked in the bay of the open fire station attracted waves of excited children, and it wasn’t long before the driveway and the green space beside it were filled with kids and their parents. And because firefighters are proud of the work they do, they soon abandoned their break to show people around.

Jill was ready with her camera. Slipping into the background, she captured some of the best images of the day. The excitement on a little girl’s face as she was lifted into the driver’s seat of the truck. The wonder in another child’s eyes as he listened to radio chatter on an oversized headset. Jill widened her range to include firefighters and photographed them restocking supplies and checking equipment. One shot she was particularly proud to have captured was a pair of women pulling the hoses from the rig to check them for wear. Their concentration reflected the seriousness of their work because a missed rip or hole would be disastrous at the scene of an emergency.

Jill might have stayed longer, but she had to get going. Just as she zipped her camera case shut, she noticed Danny walking up beside her.

“Leaving already?” He offered her a cup of hot coffee, which she accepted.

“They’re expecting me at the Yacht Club.” She cradled the cup in her palms and felt the warmth spread to her fingers. “So yeah, I gotta go.” She noticed for the first time that she’d slipped into her old South Jersey accent and that Danny didn’t seem to mind. Marc would have.

“Thanks for helping me carry the stuff from the bakery,” he said easily as he handed her a blueberry muffin folded into a napkin. “Not sure the guys would have forgiven me if I had brought them cold coffee. Hey, listen…” His tone changed so abruptly that Jill turned her attention back to him. He gestured toward the bakery. “That thing back there with Aunt Irene and the muffins? That wasn’t anything. She’s always like that—she likes to kid.”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Jill shifted her gaze back to her camera, feeling a bloom of embarrassment rise from her chest. “I knew she was kidding. Anyway, I should get going. I don’t want to be late.” She turned and called over her shoulder, “Thanks for the coffee.”

Jill walked away, relieved. Danny was handsome, no doubt about it, but the ink on her divorce papers was barely dry and Jill had no interest in dating again.

Not that he’d asked, she reminded herself.

Nineteen

On her way to the Yacht Club, Jill planned to stop by the Bennett house to drop off the SD card. Kaye’s son-in-law Ryan needed the photographs Jill had taken already, and Kaye had texted Jill to ask that she bring them by. It seemed an easy enough thing to do.

The Bennett home was a modest house on a quiet street, not at all what Jill would have expected from such an affluent family. Just two stories, shingled with gently weathered cedar, and three windows on the second floor framed with slim black shutters. Pots of yellow chrysanthemums dotted the front steps, leading up to a welcoming front porch set with Adirondack chairs and carved pumpkins.

The front door was open to the crisp autumn air, so Jill knocked on the frame.

A young woman’s voice called from inside the house, “C’min. It’s open.”

Jill pulled open the screen door and stepped inside but didn’t venture further than the small foyer. Surely the woman hadn’t intended to let anyone all the way in. “Hello?”

A woman about Jill’s age emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. Her shoulder-length dark hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and she was dressed in yoga pants and loose T-shirt. She seemed approachable and nice, and Jill liked her immediately. Under different circumstances, they may even have been friends.

“Oh, sorry.” She tucked the towel into her waistband as she walked toward Jill. “I was expecting someone else.”

“I’m Jill, the photographer that’s helping with the festival.” Jill withdrew the SD card from her camera case. “I was told that Ryan might need these pictures? For the website.”

“That’s right—now I remember. Mom texted that you might drop by. I’m Stacy. Ryan’s upstairs with the baby right now but he should be down soon. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?”

Jill wasn’t sure she should spend any time in the Bennett home. Even though she was certain they didn’t know who she was, the town was small, and people liked to talk. It was better to keep her distance. “I’m afraid I can’t stay. They want me to photograph the gallery set-up and I’m afraid I may already be late.”

“I get it,” Stacy answered easily. “Festival weekend is a busy time for everyone. Lemme just grab a new SD card to replace the one you’re giving Ryan, and you can be on your way. It’s back here.”

Stacy