Make Me Stay: A Second Chance Romance

by Amarie Avant

  “I’m doing my best to catch the ball.” The girl with blonde pigtails signed back to him and laughed. She seemed like a tomboy, but with a North Carolina Panther’s jersey on, she probably wasn’t the biggest fan of playing catch with a baseball.

  “Hello.” The young girl turned to them, eyes as crystal clear as sapphire gemstones.

  Avery was only capable of keeping her eyes on her son. She hadn’t noticed the little girl at all. Her brown gaze twinkled, and she felt as if she were floating as she moved to the gate and opened the contraption to step inside.

  Donavan Junior seemed mesmerized as well. He’d dropped his beloved mitten and gaped at his mom.

  Avery fell to her knees with Donavan there at her side. She signed to the boy. “Don’t be afraid; I’m your—”

  “Mommy?” He signed back.

  Avery held Donavan Junior tight in her grasp. For a moment, Donavan couldn’t believe his luck. He’d done so many things wrong in this lifetime—to not only have the love he’d been denied since forever right before his eyes but to see his son too—it meant the world to him. Donavan started hugging them both. Avery kissed his cheek and then went back to bestowing their child with all the love she had in the world.

  Donavan glanced up first. The screen door was open and a silver-blonde, middle-aged woman was staring at them. Her motherly instincts went from fight to enlightened. She asked, “Will you all come inside please?”

  He placed his hand on Avery, who turned fearful eyes on the woman. She still held Junior in her arms, and their child seemed content with hugging his mother.

  Donavan signed to her, “AC, let’s go inside and talk to—”

  “But I’m his mother!” she panted.

  “We’re in the presence of our son, Avery.” Again, he signed, this time his confident gaze locked onto Avery’s, begging her not to overreact. She was looking for him to save the day, but this issue was out of his hands. Anger wouldn’t get them anywhere near their desire to keep their son. No matter how much he wanted to take his son home this very instant, they couldn’t steal Donnie Junior. Even Alexander Castle’s slew of litigators would be no use to them in family court. He prayed that this family would just understand that he and Avery needed to be with their son.

  Jessica Carlson led them into the home. Donavan Junior was still wrapped in his mother’s arms as Jessica gave them a tour of her home, which had many family photos, and very nice, but worn furniture throughout, before leading them into the kitchen. The countertops were cluttered with a cake mixer, a crockpot, and a goldfish-shaped cookie jar.

  Anxiously fidgeting with her fingers, Jessica said, “My husband, Ted, will be here shortly. I have tea, every sort you could ever want. I’ll put a pot on.”

  Jessica bit her lip while leaning against the lime green countertop. She watched as Donavan Junior slid into the breakfast nook with Avery scooting in first, and Donavan rounding out the group. Donavan could hardly glance Jessica’s way. He wanted to be grateful. Their son looked smart and healthy, and he’d seemed happy enough. But, dammit, if the woman started crying, he didn’t know what he’d do because leaving Junior here would break his heart and kill the woman he loved.

  “I pray for you all the time,” Avery said to their son. Donavan listened as DJ talked about Sunday school and his favorite verse, then he’d glance over at Jessica every few minutes. It was apparent to see she was struggling to cope with the fact that the son she’d loved since birth was clinging to another woman.

  “I was foster for about seven years before I met my parents,” Donavan said, as she stood with her back to him, taking the pot of water off the stove.

  “You were adopted?” Jessica murmured, keeping herself busy while grabbing mugs from the cupboard.

  He was waiting for her to turn around to gauge her feelings, to see if he could convince her that Verdrena’s meddling had been a mistake. But she kept on moving, this time searching through containers with teabags.

  Donavan continued. “Yeah, I reckon I put my family through a lot before we got to the adoption part, though. My parents had me a good nine years when I finally let them give me their name.”

  Her shoulders shook softly; she had to be crying. Donavan bit his lip and sighed. What the am I trying to accomplish here?

  His gut told him to keep at it. “Ma’am, I’m sorry it took us so long to come around and see about—”

  “I didn’t think you ever would.” She finally spun around. Her red-rimmed eyes were glossed with more tears that had yet to fall. “We agreed to Ms. Verdie’s request to have an open adoption. We even postponed the adoption for a year because she said you had medical issues that you’d hoped to resolve. I was organizing DJ’s first birthday. You can’t even begin to understand the anxiety, just waiting for Verdrena to call and pull out of the deal and take my baby home. Then she had us agree to allow y’all to come around in the future, but that future was a long time ago.”

  The glare in her eyes said that she’d spent too much time granting them chances. Chances that they weren’t even aware they had.

  “We just learned about him,” Donavan couldn’t help the rising anger in his voice.

  “I don’t care. He’s my son!” The woman slapped her hand on the counter.

  As if she sensed something, Avery looked up. “What’s going on?” she murmured, pawing Donnie Junior’s cheek.

  They all glanced over as the garage door to the kitchen opened. Ted, dressed in slacks and an electrician’s polo shirt, entered the room. Though the jam-packed kitchen was tense, he greeted everyone with a handshake, patted Donnie’s head and went to hug his wife.

  “They want to take him from us,” Jessica mumbled, breaking out into tears.

  “But he’s mine.” Avery clung to her son tighter. She whispered, “Donnie, I’m not leaving here without him. We shouldn’t even have come inside.”

  “Avery . . .” Donavan sighed.

  “Let’s all just take a moment to breathe.” Ted held up a hand.

  Donavan took this as the time to assert himself before Avery did something crazy.

  “With all due respect, Mr. and Mrs. Carlson, you’ve done a fine job raising our son. But as I was telling your wife, just now, we literally learned that our son was alive. Today, we learned our baby boy was alive—today.”

  Ted’s eyebrows crinkled, his head tilted. “Today? Just now? Can’t be. Verdrena kept us on our feet the first year. We were worried we wouldn’t even get to keep him. Then she consented to the adoption.”

  “Verdrena is not his mother!” Avery slammed her hand on the table. She instantly hugged Donavan Junior and apologized. “Mr. And Mrs. Carlson, I thought my baby died during childbirth. Please just let us have our son. You can still see him.”

  Jessica gave a tiny chortle. “We tried for years to have a child then we get Donnie, and he’s a precious newborn baby sent from the Good Lord above, and y’all are telling me to let go of this gift God gave me!”

  “Jess,” Ted huffed.

  “We’re leaving.” Avery started to push at Donavan to move out of the breakfast nook. “And we’re taking our son, Donavan Hardy Junior. You couldn’t have a child,” she said, gulping while Ted held Jessica tightly, but Avery refused to let her son go, “and I swear to God; I’m sorry, Ms. Carlson, from the bottom of my heart, I am sorry, but—Donavan—move!”

  “No, we need to talk this through, AC,” Donavan growled, staying put. He was trying to mention to Avery that they’d be abducting their own flesh and blood when Jessica gasped.

  “Did you just . . .” Jessica moved around her husband. “Did you call him Hardy? Is he a Hardy?”

  Avery couldn’t help her smart response. “Yes, he is, and my son is—”

  “Is your ma, Agnes Hardy, your pa, Greg Hardy?” She shoved a hand through her silver hair.

  Donavan nodded.

  This time when the dam broke, and the tears fell down Jessica’s face. She was smiling. “Oh my god! I honestly agreed to Verdie’
s request to the name because that’s the name of the boy Agnes always told me about. She went to my church. She was like an older sister to me, talking about adopting when we were at our wit’s end, ‘bout ready to leave the church and everything behind.”

  Donavan didn’t know whether to breathe easy or not. Just the mention of his mom screwed with his emotions. He held his composure and said, “She was a good mom.”

  “Sheesh, I couldn’t do anything without Agnes. She was the best. I remember the first time I introduced her to our baby. She just smiled and smiled.”

  Avery sighed heavily. “I’m glad you had Ms. Agnes as a mentor. W-Would you just consider letting us take him . . for the day . . . for . . . I’d take one day a month. Anything. I know we don’t have rights. I’m sure my mom was waiting for me to return from Sunnymead Resort, but I-I stayed a little while longer than a year. I thought my baby had died. And I-I can’t start a custody battle with you. That would put DJ through too much. But if you would even consider one day a year, I would be forever grateful.”

  Jessica was quiet for a while, exchanging glances with her husband. She murmured, “Can we have weekends? Donnie has always wanted his parents. He wasn’t like our daughter. Her parents died, and she’s always been ours, but he’s a sweet, grateful boy. So, just once a month, weekends, and his baseball games, we’d have to go to those. And school, anything that happens at school, we’d like to be invited, even to the parent-teacher conferences.”

  “Thank you,” Donavan said.

  Avery began to nod and hug her son tighter. With them awkwardly sitting in the breakfast nook, she stretched her arms as wide as she could to hug Donavan too. She had just that much love to give.

  EPILOGUE

  Donavan & Avery

  Seven Months Later

  The kitchen of the Baudelaire mansion was filled with smell of a sugary concoction of chocolate and coconut. Though many of the appliances had been upgraded to bring them up to code for hospitality, the room was large enough to have its original, cast-iron wood stove. It still worked, but there were three male Hardys in the kitchen, all of which were no good at baking. They chose the Viking wall oven in an attempt to do their best.

  “I don’t know about this German Chocolate cake, Dad,” Donavan pushed a hand through his curls. He looked like a damn pretty boy again. With Avery about to bust, Donnie Junior’s baseball tournament, and, to top it off, their bed and breakfast grand opening soon, he didn’t have time to cut his hair. The monstrosity of a cake was in three tiers on the island countertop.

  “Don’t matter what it looks like, Donavan.” Greg grinned. In his wheelchair, he was eye level with the mess, but it smelled good. “It’s gonna be as good as Agnes’s . . . just as good; you mark my words.” He nudged his chin as a determined Donnie Junior glanced back at him. With the encouragement, DJ continued to put coconut-pecan frosting on the second layer. The creation was lumpy, but all they had to do was drop the third and final layer on it, and boom, it would look better, at least, he hoped.

  “Can I have the bowl now?” Donnie Junior asked.

  “The bowl? I washed it already why?” Donavan asked.

  Junior bit down on his bottom lip, apprehensively. “Aw, man. I forgot to ask for it sooner.”

  “And again, I say why?” Donavan didn’t give his son a chance to respond. He simply scooped the boy up and started tickling him.

  “You are going to make him develop a stutter,” Greg warned.

  DJ giggled. “Alright, Alright, Dad. Mom said she wants the bowl for my little sister.”

  “Well, I would tell you to go tell your Momma that she doesn’t need any extra cake batter. But I need you here, ready to help.”

  Greg asked, “So how are you gonna do it?”

  “Propose?”

  “That’s right, Sherlock.”

  Donavan gave a cocky grin. “I reckon, I’ll just put the ring on top of the cake.”

  “Too simple.” Greg waved off the idea with a frown.

  “Thanks, Dad. Nice suggestions.”

  “Humph! Alright, I haven’t had to be romantic in ages. Since we are having a picnic, maybe a bouquet of roses?”

  Carly came into the kitchen, offering a wink. “No roses. Avery deserves more than your standard bouquet of roses.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Donavan placed his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Can you help Dad finish the cake and take it out?”

  “I can.” She beamed.

  Greg asked, “Hey, what’s with the two of you?”

  “What?” Carly cocked a brow.

  Greg grunted. “The only mistake I have in life was not finding Donavan sooner, and you coming along even later. But I know my kids. You two have secrets.”

  “He plans to propose by—”

  “Carly,” Donavan growled. “That’s why I rarely tell you anything.”

  “Jokes on you, Donavan, you forget that was what we were talking . . . wait a minute. You have a proposal idea already in that crazy ass head of yours? You are head over hills for that girl. Roses. Rings on top of cakes. None of that was part of your plan.”

  Donavan shook his head. “Hell, no. None of that was my plan, but you can’t keep a secret.”

  His dad rolled his eyes.

  Carly went to help Donnie Junior, who was mastering the final touches on the cake. When he glanced her way, she spoke, “How about I take over, buddy?”

  He nodded. As Donavan and his son started out the room, Greg laughed about him. “You were grounded half the time because of Avery. This better be good. And I will help with the proposal regardless if I was invited to or not.”

  “Dad, if you want to be part of the proposal, go give everyone a speech. We need a few minutes.”

  Greg gave a salute.

  ~~~

  Outside, Avery gnawed on her bottom lip while sitting beneath the willow tree her great-grandmother Franny used to sit under with her while braiding her hair. Her parents were on the opposite side of the dark-purple cashmere picnic blanket.

  She and her mom had a strained relationship these days. Verdrena explained that she’d kept stalling with the Carlson’s for the first year because she wanted Avery out of Sunnymead before meeting her son. When Avery went off to college at New York University, Verdrena felt their relationship had thinned further and didn’t think Avery could handle the news. Avery still couldn’t believe her mom. There was no excuse.

  On the other hand, Alexander and Avery’s relationship was blossoming. He’d taken an extended leave from his government duties—or whatever the heck he did—to help with the final touches for Baudelaire Estate, which included the purchase of linens and other frivolous things for their future guests. Their bed and breakfast was already booked for the entire summer season, and they hadn’t even had the grand opening.

  Her brother was off in the distance, playing with Joshua and Donnie Junior’s older adopted sister. Jessica sat with Avery and signed: “I don’t know about Junior making a cake. We tried brownies one time. Came out awful.”

  Avery laughed. Ted nodded in agreement. “We should’ve made them from the box the first time around.”

  Avery said, “The way I’m feeling, I will probably eat the whole cake regardless of how it looks or tastes.”

  “Honey, watch your . . .” Verdrena stopped talking with a huff. She was so used to telling her daughter to lay off the carbohydrates that she’d forgotten not to. She gave Avery an awkward smile, then went back to pawing Alexander’s face. Like father, like daughter, Verdrena had been in hot water with him too.

  Alexander fumbled with his fingers as he began to sign: “This is your day, my beautiful daughter, enjoy.”

  Avery was shocked by the surprise. “When? How?” She signed back.

  “Okay, you have to go slow,” Alexander said. “I know my ABC’s now. And that statement I just made.”

  Avery didn’t have a moment to contemplate what her father meant by this being “her day” because, just then, Carly
escorted Greg outside along with the cake.

  “Doesn’t look too bad,” Todd said, referring to the cake.

  “You’re the bright side,” Avery quipped.

  “He is,” Jessica chuckled.

  When Carly and Greg made it the fifty or so yards to them, Carly called over to Antonio and Josh. They then proceeded over to the rest of the group.

  “Greg, this picnic was a great idea. Thank you for suggesting it.” Avery said, smiling up at Mr. Hardy.

  Greg handed the cake to Ted, who placed it on the blanket, then he clapped his hands together.

  “Well, it’s a really nice day, Avery.” He smiled back at her. “You know, I can’t recall ever being without a hurt or a pain since my dear Agnes left this earth. We were a small family, she and I. Had no grandparents to offer Donnie or Carly. Because the good Lord saw fit to take them on both sides.” He gave a wry smile. “But I’ll be! Now, I’m surrounded by more family than ever. We’re having this picnic before Avery and big Donnie—I just realized I can only call him Donavan or Big Donnie—when he used to be the baddest little fellah this side of the Mississippi.”

  Carly giggled. “Dad, should we wait for the boys?”

  “Nope. They’re keeping secrets.” Greg chuckled and winked at Carly then Avery, whose eyebrows kneaded together.

  “Finish your speech, Dad,” Carly sighed.

  “Oh, alright, I had myself a good conversation with the two Donavans while we made Agnes’s cake. But I just want to say that it won’t be easy opening up a Bed and Breakfast because y’all are going to do it right. And—”

  “Dad, is this a speech? It’s rather long.” Carly cut in with a smirk.

  “Still the wise Alec, I see. Look, usually, I can’t talk for gritting my teeth to pain so . . .” He rubbed his hands together again, then told a lousy joke.

  To Avery, he appeared to be stalling Then she saw both Donavans heading down from the house. Her jaw dropped. They were dressed in top hats and tuxedos.