by Luxe, Eva
Riley takes my hand and squeezes it. I’m reminded of the very first day I laid eyes on her— when I was in jail, of all places. I knew then that I had to have her. And now I do.
“From that day on, Dad would tease me and call me Drew,” I say, taking over the story. “Especially when I did anything wrong. He would say, ‘Drew, was that you again?’ And these assholes over here—” I pointed to my brothers— “would say, ‘You better tell on yourself Jensen, or else he’ll think it was Drew, doing everything better and worse than you.’”
Everyone laughs, even Mom. I’m amazed at how peacefully she’s taking this transition. She was apologetic when she came to the next morning and found out she had slept through the birth of her grandson. Riley’s labor had been nearly as quick as its onset, and Drew was born within just a few hours.
We’d been pretty sure we wanted to name him Drew but when he arrived, we were sure of it. His angelic face looked like it was saying, “I’ll never do a thing wrong in my whole life. Blame Drew, not me!”
So we’d spent two days in the hospital and Mom kept coming to try to meet Drew and apologize but we’d not let her in. We explained to her on the phone that it wasn’t personal— we wanted Dad to meet the baby at the same time everyone else did. So now here we are, except earlier today we’d sat down with Mom for a heart to heart. She was so glad we were still talking to her that she’d agreed to anything we’d asked.
“That’s such a beautiful story,” Whitney says. “And what a great name for Mr. Drew. A constant reminder of what an awesome grandpa he has.”
“He really was,” says Mom, and we all turn to look at her, kind of surprised. “Now I would like to tell you the other reason we came today.”
Now we’re all very surprised. Mom rarely comes to visit Dad and we’ve certainly never heard her talk like this before.
We all just stare at her, waiting for her to continue, and not being able to believe our ears.
Chapter 10 – Jensen
“I’m going to be going to Albuquerque Acres, which sounds fancy but it’s really just a home for old crazy addicts like me,” Mom says to Dad’s grave.
No one knows whether to laugh or cry. We all just look at her, kind of stunned.
“I wanted to come say goodbye to you. I’m sure I’ll be allowed out with relatives, and we can come back, but… I felt I should let you know in person. And to apologize for how I’ve treated you— all of you— in the past.”
Her old, frail hands are shaking, but I take one of them into my own. I’d already been holding Riley’s hand in my other hand. Harlow holds Mom’s other hand and soon we’re making a circle around Dad’s grave, all of us holding hands.
“We love you, Mom,” I tell her. “And I’m sure Dad forgives you.”
“Do you forgive me?” she asks, looking at me and then at my brothers.
I take a breath. I know there’s a very big chance she’ll revert back to the selfish, arrogant woman she always has been. I know she is just feeling contrite because of all the heartache she’d put us through before Drew was born. But she had never asked us for forgiveness before, and I figure there’s no better time or place to make peace.
“Yes,” I tell her, and Harlow and Ramsey say the same.
“But I put you through so much,” she says, tears rolling down her eyes. “I’m just beginning to realize, nearly too late, the full extent of it.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Ramsey says, reaching out to pat her hand on top of my own. “We really do forgive you.”
“We’ve been through worse,” Harlow says, and I have to give him that. He’s definitely been through worse— and I guess he’s right that we all have. “But we have each other other, brothers united through thick and thin. And the love of the women— and children— in our lives, to see us through.”
There’s something about the way he says “children” that makes me form a question in my mind. Monica must have the same reaction, because she cocks her head and looks at him, and then at Whitney.
“So, wait a minute,” she says. “I hate to break up the hippy dippy mood around here, but… Whitney, if you were upset because of everything going on with—” she nods her head in Mom’s direction, clearly not wanting to be more specific— “all of this, then, you weren’t worried about getting pregnant?”
“What?” Ramsey asks, shaking his head as if her question does not compute. But Riley is smiling, and I am too, because I know what she’s getting at. “What does one of those things have to do with the other? And, Monica, it’s rude to pry like that…”
“No, it’s okay,” Whitney says, a big smile crossing her face. “Monica was thinking I was upset due to not being able to get pregnant. I was, for a while, but now I have no reason not to be.”
“Really?” Riley says, breaking out of the circle to go hug Monica. Whitney soon joins in, as does my mom. “Congratulations.”
“Yes, really,” Whitney says. “Soon I’ll have one of these.”
She leans over and kisses sleeping Drew on the top of his head. “I just got the positive test last week. We were waiting for the right time to tell you, and this seems as good a time as any.”
“Hooray!” James says, running around in a circle.
“Don’t step on the gravesites,” Ramsey tells him.
I slap Harlow on the back. “Good job, little brother!” I say.
“Yes, great job,” Ramsey says.
“I’m gonna get a cousin,” James says, in a sing-songy toddler voice. “He’s gonna be so cooooooooool.”
“Hey,” Whitney says, laughing. “Maybe it’ll be a she . I know that boys run in the family, but I think it might be time for one of us to have the first girl.”
“I agree,” Riley says, and reaches over to hold my hand again.
“Unless…” Whitney says, looking curiously at Monica. “You guys aren’t…”
“Pregnant again?” Monica laughs. “Hell no. Oops.”
She looks at James and then says, “Heck no. We do want another one, but we’re waiting a little longer.”
“And I’m kind of hoping it’s another boy,” Ramsey says. “Because I think that everyone needs a brother, or two.”
As we walk back up the hill, to take Mom to the new life that awaits her at the home and to put little Drew to bed, I can’t help but agree with him.
Everyone definitely needs two brothers as amazing as my own . Then, as I look down at a sleeping Drew and over at his smiling, happy mommy, I think: and a wife and son as amazing as my own, as well.
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Nanny Wanted : A Virgin & Billionaire Secret Baby Romance
Copyright 2017 by Eva Luxe and Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Cover by Cosmic Letterz.
Dedication
To all the girls, and guys, who fight for those they love.
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Chapter 1 – Willow
I hated this.
There was nothing worse I’d ever experienced in my entire life than having to visit my brother in the hospital. I didn’t even know— no one knew— whether Sam was going to pull through or not. Every time I came here, it was one big question mark with no answer in sight.
And yet, I loved my brother. I believed in him and wanted him to get better. So, I continued to come see him, even though being here was very difficult, to say the least.
The view of the hospital lobby loomed over me as people were coming and going, some on stretchers and some in wheelchairs.
Sam didn't deserve this fate— didn’t deserve to have to b
e here. My brother was big and loud and affectionate, and made a joke out of everything. He didn’t belong in a place like this, no matter how kind the nurses were or how cutting edge the technology was. He shouldn’t be lying still, with tubes running in and out of him, fighting for his life.
I swallowed my depression and gathered as much courage as I could, but I still dragged my feet as I entered the hospital and retraced my steps back up to his room for what felt like the thousandth time.
The elevator would've been easier, but I needed to keep myself in motion until I laid eyes on him. Elevators were starting to feel a little claustrophobic.
I got to his room and shoved through the door. “Sam, you wouldn’t believe this new—”
His bed was empty. Oh, God, what had happened?
"Nurse, nurse!" I ran to the small nurses’ station a few steps away from Sam’s door. "What happened to my brother? Why isn't he in his room?”
"Oh, Willow, calm down," the nurse said, getting up from her desk and hugging my shoulders.
Her tone and the way she kind of patted me on the back like I was a child let me know that everyone here was sick of how often I freaked out. But I couldn’t help it— I was known to speak my mind and be a little high strung and hyper no matter what the occasion, and who could blame me for being worried in such a situation? I was glad the nurses were kind but I was beginning to realize I was getting on their nerves.
"He's fine,” the nurse continued. “He was just moved to another room in the hospital."
I breathed a shaky sigh of relief and wiped my eyes.
The nurse took me to another station. While I stood to the side waiting, trying my very best to be patient— which certainly was not my strong suit— she leafed through some papers and clicked around on her computer.
Willow, stop being weak. You need to be strong. If something had happened, they would've called the family. Breathe. Sam will be fine. Then you can nag him again about his annoying tendency to leave the toilet seat up.
This wasn't fair. Sam was a good guy, and an awesome brother...when he didn't leave the bathroom a mess.
"Here we go, he's in the north wing of the hospital in room 24B. I'll take you there. It can get confusing trying to get over to that wing of the hospital."
She smiled at me, her humanity winning out— or maybe she was just happy to be getting rid of me— but either way, I was grateful.
I smiled back at her. "Thank you."
On our way over, the nurse started an idle chatter about her family. I guess it was to soothe my nerves. Every word she said went in one ear and out the other.
I tried to pay attention as she told me something about her plans for the weekend including a family barbeque, and then asking me what my plans were. I had tunnel vision, thinking that I would just be here all weekend, of course. All I cared about was my brother.
It was hard enough that Mom and Dad were too busy to come see him very much. But if I had to look out for him by myself, then I would. Lord knew he’d looked out for me often enough.
"Okay, we're in the north wing, and his room is right down the hall."
I ran ahead of her, counting the rooms as I passed each door.
There. I found it.
I waved at the nurse and she waved back, turning around to return to her station. Maybe she had never been annoyed with me, and it was all in my head. I seemed to be going crazy due to anxiety lately.
I pulled on the door and went inside.
"Sam! There you are."
He didn't respond. I knew he was in a coma, but every time I spoke to him, I felt like he'd magically wake up and say something.
Wake up, please wake up soon.
I wiped the hair from his forehead to the side. The bruises were going down, and he looked peaceful. They said he wasn’t in any pain, and I clung to that reassurance. I'd die if I knew he was in pain.
I settled into the chair next to his bed, getting comfortable for a long visit.
"So, I wanted to let you know that I'm trying my hand at bar tending,” I said, taking his hand. “It's at this weird strip joint, but I'm not a stripper. I swear.”
His hand was warm, a good reminder that he was alive and could still come back to me.
"I don't make money like the dancers, but the pay is decent, and the tips are too. I had to drop out of school though. Money has gotten tight with the family. But I’ll go back, okay? So don’t yell at me for dropping out. It’s just temporary."
I rubbed his hand and looked at the monitors and machines that were attached to him.
"We're suing that person who hit you," I said with a sniffle, "but the courts are taking their time. We're doing our best. You'll be fine though. And maybe we'll have a bigger house and you'll have your own bathroom to mess up as much as you want."
Who was I kidding? There was no way I could sit here and pretend I was Ms. Emotionless. I had a heart, and it was being stabbed repeatedly.
I wished I could've stopped him from going out that night. But how was I to know he would be hit?
I began humming, and then singing a song.
Don’t worry, be happy…
The song was as much for me as it was for him. I needed to remind myself that worrying didn’t do any good.
But as I continued to sing, I couldn’t help but smile, suppressing a giggle. It was a weird thing to be trying not to laugh in a hospital room, at one of my darkest hours. Yet it was also funny that I was singing, because Sam always used to tease me that I was tone deaf. When we were little he would yell, “NO SINGING” at me, and I would keep going, just to keep annoying him, which was my job as his sister.
It was a game we would play sometimes, on long car trips when we were bored, or while fishing down by the creek. He would tell me to stop singing because I would scare away the fish— they’d have to swim away from me because my voice was so bad. Or he’d tell Mom and Dad to kick me out of the car for subjecting everyone to my awful voice.
Even though it was a joke that was exaggerated out of proportion, I knew he was right— I couldn’t sing to save my life. But now I was hoping that I could sing to save his. I knew how ridiculous that sounded, but I had to focus on something to keep myself from going insane.
Suddenly, there were a few soft knocks at the door. I zipped my lips—another phrase Sam used to tell me to do while singing— and I turned around, to see a middle-aged man in a three-piece suit strolling in.
"You must be one of the Reigns. Related to Samual Reign, correct? How are you?" he asked.
"Yes, I’m Willow. His sister. And I guess I'm fine."
I looked back at Sam and his host of machines, wanting to ask the guy how he thought I was, but refraining. Sometimes it takes everything I have to hold back my sarcastic comments.
“I’m sorry, we were just moved to this wing,” I told him. “Who are you?”
"I’m with the hospital administration,” he said brusquely. “Ms. Reign. I'd like to collect some other insurance info from you for your brother if you happen to know it."
"You already have his info." I wiped my eyes.
"I know," he said, frowning, "but that insurance has called us and recently said they could no longer cover his medical needs."
I jumped out of my chair.
"That's impossible! He’s still on our parents’ insurance! What about that man who hit him? He was taken here too, right? Why don't you ask him?"
The man checked his clipboard.
"I'm sorry, Ms. Reign. But he passed away this morning."
I pushed past the doctor and ran down the hallway. Why did all of this bad luck have to happen? That was my brother in there, and all the hospital cared about was money.
I bumped into people, I tripped on a person's leg, but no matter what obstacle was in my path to slow me down, I had to get out of that h
ospital. I couldn’t sit there with Sam knowing that he would think he was one more bill we had to pay.
For the first time since the accident, I hoped he couldn’t hear what was going on around him. I didn’t want him to find out that there was no money to help him get better, because then he might give up.
Chapter 2 – Willow
When I got to the bus stop, I broke down crying.
I pulled out my cell phone and through my blurry vision, I pushed the fast dial button for my father.
"Hey there, darling. How are you?" my father asked.
"Daddy! The hospital said the insurance is gone. They said the insurance dropped him. And the guy who hit him is dead!"
He sighed, leaving a few moments of silence between us before he responded.
"Willow, darling, I already knew about that. We're trying to work something out, your mother and I."
My grip around the phone tightened.
"What? You knew and didn't tell me?" my voice shook. "I visit him every damn day. I'm the only person who comes to see him and you didn't tell me?"
"Willow, please,” he said wearily. “You know─"
I hung up. I hated when my father got that patronizing tone, and I knew it wasn’t worth fighting with him. I was hurt that he didn’t trust me to inform me about things, but, I had learned by now that there was nothing I could do about it.
The bus arrived and opened its doors. I looked at it blankly. I still couldn’t get over the fact that my parents had known about this and hadn’t told me.
I dragged myself on the bus and slid my transfer card through the machine.
My body felt lifeless. Sam deserved better than this. My family had fallen apart after that car incident. And I was beginning to think it wasn't going to come back together again.
Instead of returning home, I stopped by the local social services and got a bunch of papers containing information for places that helped with medical bills. A brief review, however, only delivered more gloom and doom to my already awful news. Medicaid wasn't going to cover it, we couldn't afford a new private policy, and the churches that were on the list only offered medical care up to a hundred dollars.
