by Karen Cimms
“Thanks, Barclay,” Preston said with a wink. “Golden Globe champ and a body builder. You can’t tell what’s under that off-the-rack Hugo Boss suit, can you? Right, Barclay?”
He smiled as if he thought he was quite amusing.
“When Rain made that pathetic post on Facebook about how sad and lonely she was, it was just too perfect. Why wouldn’t I jump on that?” He made a big show of putting on a fake frown. “To be honest, I really thought you’d take me up on my offer to swoop in and take care of you. You surprised me, Rain. You got all conscientious and respectable, and you left me no choice but to legally seek a relationship with my son.”
For the first time, he looked completely serious.
“Once I started down this path, I didn’t think of anyone but myself. I’ve always wanted children, and aside from the opinion the two of you have of me, I think I’d make a damn good father. I figured you knew that my being Zac’s father was a strong possibility, and I didn’t think it would come as that much of a shock to anyone except perhaps Suzanne. Turns out she took it well; nothing a trip to Paris during Fashion Week couldn’t solve. I guess I really didn’t expect you both to take it so hard.” His voice dropped. “Maybe I wouldn’t have been such a great father after all, if I could rip apart my child’s world for my own selfish needs.”
He extended an open hand to his lawyer. “Barclay.”
Barclay slipped a large manila envelope out of his leather binder and offered it to Rain. She raised her hand slowly, afraid to take it.
“Open it,” Preston insisted.
I watched over her shoulder as she pulled out the contents. There were dozens of pictures. Some were of Rain with Zac, or Zac and Izzy, or all of us together, but most were of me and Zac. We were fishing along the North Branch, and I was trying to show him how to cast his line. We were sitting on the dock near Round Lake. We were walking on the beach, Zac sitting on my shoulders. We were shopping for a gift for Rain or working in the yard.
Zac, my ever-present shadow.
“The thing of it is,” Preston said, “Zac already has a great dad. He doesn’t need a second one. So I guess I need to apologize to you too, Chase. I’m sorry.”
Rain stood as if she were made of marble, one hand clamped over her mouth. “What does this mean?” she asked between her fingers.
Preston turned his back to us, but his lawyer stepped up.
“Mr. Jamison has advised Judge Ludlow that he will be submitting the necessary paperwork for an identified surrender of parental rights. He will be naming Mr. Holgate as the person who will be adopting Zac. There are a few formalities he will need to follow, but given the unusual nature of the case and the fact that the judge has already been advised of Mr. Jamison’s reasoning, it should be relatively cut and dry. Once the judge agrees to the termination of parental rights, Mr. Holgate must adopt the minor child.”
I tried to say that I would, but my throat had gone dry.
“I don’t understand,” Rain stammered.
Preston’s shoulders twitched, but he didn’t turn around.
“Mr. Jamison is giving you and your husband sole custody of your son,” Barclay said. “He is giving up any and all rights to the boy.”
Preston cleared his throat loudly.
“Mr. Jamison would, however, like to make provision for Zac’s college education, as well as Isolde’s.”
Rain looked up at me, her eyes wide. I shook my head at her.
“No, thank you, Preston,” she said. “That won’t be necessary. Chase has been saving for both children since before we were married.”
Preston turned slightly to Barclay. “Told you he wouldn’t go for it.”
“That is understandable, Mr. and Mrs. Holgate,” Barclay said. “However, be advised that Mr. Jamison will be creating trusts for both children. Should the need arise in the future, you will just need to contact my office. If they don’t need it for schooling, then perhaps a wedding or the purchase of a home when they’re older. Mr. Jamison also would like you to know in the unfortunate event that either child is ill and needs anything beyond what is covered by your medical insurance, he would want to contribute, no questions asked and no strings attached.”
“Thank you,” Rain said, her voice barely audible.
Preston turned to face us. “Well, then. Good luck.” He began leaning in as if he would kiss Rain’s cheek, but I pulled her back. “Right. Sorry.”
He held out his hand to me. I looked at it, almost expecting him to be holding a writhing rattle snake, but it was empty. It held no power over me.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice scratching like a rusty hinge.
Preston looked at Rain a little longer than I was comfortable with, but it would be hard to punch him after the gift he’d just given us.
“I guess that’s it, then.”
They were almost to the car before Rain looked up at me. “Chase?”
“I guess one of us should probably hug him or something,” I muttered. “Might as well be you.”
Chapter Seventy-One
“Preston! Wait!”
I had almost caught up to him by the time he turned, catching him off guard as I threw my arms around his neck, surprising him. He remained stiff at first, and was slow to hug me back. When he did, he folded his arms around me tightly. I felt him inhale deeply, and if I wasn’t certain my husband was standing in the doorway, watching, I would’ve thought he’d sniffed my hair.
I pulled back, squinting up at him, my eyes ready to spill. “Why, Preston? Why did you change your mind?”
The afternoon sun illuminated his face. I recognized that expression. It was a look of exquisite pain.
“Barclay,” he said, his eyes still fixed on me. “A moment.”
The attorney climbed into the back seat of the black BMW sedan idling in my driveway and closed the door with a quiet thunk. The driver faced straight ahead, never once looking in our direction.
“Why?” He looked away, and despite the incredible gift he’d just given us, I instinctively thought he was going to try to bullshit me. But when he looked back he was unmasked. Vulnerable.
He ran his fingers through a strand of my hair, gliding them gently down the side of my face. “I lied to you a few minutes ago.”
My heart slammed against my ribcage, but cautiously resumed beating as he struggled to explain himself.
“I looked right at you and said that I’d once loved you. That was true, but I’ve never stopped loving you. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to be part of my son’s life. To be honest, I still do, but that would be a mistake. He has a good life, far better than I could probably give him. To insert myself into his life at this point, he’d never understand.
“I was raised having everything I could possibly want. The best of everything. The best education. But I’m miserable. All the money in the world won’t buy me what I truly want. It couldn’t buy me the love of a cold, domineering father or a status-conscious mother, or the woman I might have had beside me if those expensive private schools had taught me things like humility and compassion.
“Instead, I have everything I deserve. I run a multimillion dollar design firm that eats up at least eighty hours a week. When I’m not working, my wife parades me around to endless charity functions, and when we come home, more often than not, I sleep in my study because after just a few short years of marriage, we can barely stand each other.
He laughs a hard, mirthless laugh. “I have nothing to give Zac besides what was given to me, and we all see how that turned out. I’m a lousy son of a bitch. I don’t doubt for one moment you could’ve changed me, but for that, you would’ve had to love me at least half as much as you love the lucky bastard who’s currently shooting daggers at me.”
He slipped his sunglasses into place and visibly straightened.
“If you ever had any doubts about me loving you, don’t. You, Miss February, will always be the love of my life.”
He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead.
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“I just never deserved you.”
“Preston—”
“Go, Rain. Be happy. Take care of our son.”
With that he backed away from me as the driver stepped out and opened the door. Preston didn’t look at me again. Not after he was settled into the back seat and not as the car backed down our driveway and pulled away.
Chase waited for me on the sidewalk, and the fact that he’d let me talk to Preston by myself, that he’d watched him stroke my hair and kiss my forehead and hadn’t reacted with his fists, proved to me that we were truly past what had nearly destroyed us.
Sunlight lit up strands of his hair, which had grown to just past his ears. His white dress shirt, black slacks, and thin black tie made my serious man look that much more somber. But I didn’t want any part of that. It was time to celebrate.
I bounded across the lawn and into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist and covering his face with kisses.
“Can you believe it?” I crowed, still kissing him and loving the feel of his strong, safe arms around me.
“I’m still kind of pinching myself. Thank god we hadn’t already told Zac.”
I sobered instantly. “I know. Do you think some day we’ll have to tell him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it would be the right thing to do, but not until he’s much older and he can understand what happened.”
A second later, I was grinning again, but this time, for a very different reason. “I still can’t believe what Preston said, though.”
He smirked. “Just about everything that came out of his mouth was outrageous.”
“All that nonsense about you shooting blanks.” I pressed the tip of my nose against his. “I happen to know for a fact that is not true.”
His smirk morphed into a grin that split his face.
“Are you serious?”
“I am,” I whispered over the thickness in my throat and the sweet sting behind my eyes. “You, Mr. Holgate, are going to be a daddy. Again.”
Epilogue
Ten Months Later
“I can’t believe you guys are going to celebrate two anniversaries a year. I’m lucky if I can get Wally to remember just one.”
“Then I probably shouldn’t tell you it’s Chase’s idea, right?”
Diane made a face that had me cracking up, and when I couldn’t stop laughing, she flipped me the bird.
“Now now,” I said. “None of that. You’re going to be a mommy soon.”
“I gave up alcohol. The doctor never said anything about expressive hand gestures.” She pointed at her round belly. “Besides, if this one takes after either of his parents, he’ll be cursing and drinking before he’s two.”
I attached the last buttercream rose to the two-tiered chocolate cake I’d made for our second first anniversary and licked my finger. “Hmm. So good.” The touch of sweetness on my tongue was sinful, especially since I’d cut way back on sugar while I was nursing. But today, I was going to enjoy myself.
A year ago, Chase and I had remarried in the courthouse, the same courthouse where a couple months later Preston’s paternity had been recognized by the court, only to have him experience a change of heart and allow Chase to adopt Zac after all.
Chase had done so with little fanfare as no one had ever been aware that he wasn’t Zac’s father, but it would be a date neither of us would forget.
“So Chase’s family, do you really think they’re going to show?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? Dylan told Chase they were coming, and Geraldine called last week and said the same.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she muttered, tearing open a bag of pretzels and pouring them into a napkin-lined basket. “At least if Lorraine does come, I don’t have to be nice.”
My head snapped up. “Why the hell not?”
The look on her face was completely innocent. “I’m pregnant. It’s okay if I’m bitchy. It’s the hormones.”
“Yeah, okay.”
What would my excuse be if I were to act bitchy? I moved the cake to the kitchen table and wiped down the counters. While Dylan had made a point of coming to the house and apologizing to me, I hadn’t seen Lorraine. When Dylan told Chase last week that they would be coming to our anniversary party, I was shocked. We both were, although neither of us would be surprised if Dylan showed up alone or with just the kids.
Geraldine had finally come around, but it had taken months. I never did get any kind of apology from her, but she’d been more than civil. I wouldn’t go as far as to say she was friendly, but she was tolerable. The most important thing was that Chase had his family back. If Lorraine never came around, it would be her loss.
I dropped the mixing bowl and beaters into the sink, but before I could turn on the water, Diane swooped in and grabbed both beaters. “What’s wrong with you?” she cried before running her tongue over a blade of first one and then the other. Her eyes rolled heavenward. “You really should open a bakery.”
“Yeah. In my spare time.”
“Who has spare time?” Chase stepped into the kitchen, a mewling pink bundle tucked under his arm like a football, and a bottle of champagne in his other hand.
I plucked our daughter from his side and raised my chin to meet his lips for a kiss. “Not me. What’s that for?” I asked, eyeing champagne.
“For later.” He grinned as he waggled the bottle. “Get ready to pump and dump.”
Speaking in between licks around the beater, Diane told Chase what she’d said while he tucked the champagne into the refrigerator. He gave me a serious look, but I caught the sparkle in his eyes.
“A bakery, huh? That’s a great idea. Between working at the luncheonette, taking care of three kids, and packing up the house to move, you should totally open a bakery. Sleep is overrated.” He ruffled Diane’s bright red hair, earning him a caustic look and a slap on the hand. He aimed a finger at her belly. “You’ll learn that yourself as soon as Wally Jr. gets here. If he’s anything like his old man, you’ll be feeding him twenty-four-seven.”
It was hard not to laugh at Diane’s groan. “Yeah,” I added, “and you can’t be holding him over with Hot Pockets either.”
With a loud oomph, she propelled herself out of her chair. “You two are a regular laugh riot.” She waddled over to the sink and dropped the beaters into the bowl with a loud clunk.
Quinn’s mewling grew louder. “I think someone’s hungry.” I lifted her to my shoulder and rubbed her back. “I’m going to go feed her before everyone gets here.”
In my bedroom, I lowered myself into the upholstered rocker Chase had bought when Quinn was born and calmed my frantic infant, who latched on like she hadn’t eaten for days.
These were the moments I most looked forward to. It had been the same with Izzy and Zac, and now Quinn. She gazed up at me intently. Eyes the same color as her fathers—blue with a hint of green—fringed with long black lashes, despite the nearly white peach fuzz that covered her tiny head. Her forehead wrinkled as I kissed her brow, and she kicked out a foot, letting me know she wasn’t happy that I was interrupting her concentration. I could already tell that this one wouldn’t be as easy-going as her brother and sister.
There was a soft tap on the door.
“C’mon in, Iz.”
My daughter stepped in, looking more beautiful than a thirteen-year-old should. Her usual mass of curls was tamed into an updo my mother had helped her with, and I’d allowed her to wear a touch of mascara and lip gloss. It was a special day, but I’d warned her not to get used to wearing makeup yet. I’d rushed headfirst into growing up fast. It frightened me to think of her doing the same.
Poor Chase was going to be a basket case when she started to date.
“I don’t know why, but it still freaks me out when you know it’s me before I even open the door.” She smoothed down the skirt of the hunter green lace dress we’d bought especially for tonight and sat on the edge of my bed.
“How’re you doing?”
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nbsp; Her lips pursed as she considered my question. “A little nervous, but okay.”
“Oh, baby, you have nothing to be nervous about.”
“I know. I was thinking of Dad. I’m worried he’s going to freak out.”
I tried to contain my laugh, but I couldn’t. Quinn jumped, threw an arm up into the air and glared at me. I nuzzled her cheek. “Sorry, sweets.” Her arm lowered slowly, and she resumed nursing.
“Yeah. He’s going to freak, but in the best way.”
Izzy’s grin lit the room as if someone had flicked on a dozen hundred-watt bulbs. “I guess.”
The doorbell rang, accompanied by the sound of voices. If everyone who RSVP’d and said they would be joining us actually showed, it would be a tight squeeze, especially with a too-big Christmas tree taking up one corner of the living room. The party would be our last big celebration in this house. Chase had renegotiated the loan he’d taken out to buy his half of the Sunoco station, paid down his truck and repaid the money he’d borrowed from his brother, and by adding more baked goods at the luncheonette and expanding our hours, which increased my salary, we were able to buy a bigger house. Next month we were moving to a four-bedroom with a huge yard and a master bathroom that already had a roomy soaking tub in the en suite. Who knew when we’d ever have time to use it, but it had been on top of our wish lists.
“Can you get Quinn dressed while I finish getting ready?” I tossed a receiving blanket over Izzy’s shoulder and then handed her the baby. “See if you can get her to burp first.”
She cuddled her sister against her chest. “C’mon, stinky. Time to get all gussied up.”
The door closed behind them, and I tore my T-shirt over my head and slipped into the strapless red and green plaid tartan dress I’d bought for the occasion and the too tall red heels. I’d bought Chase a matching tie, but he’d balked and insisted he wasn’t wearing a tie to his own party in his own house. He did at least agree to wear a red button-down shirt. Zac, however, was excited to wear his tartan clip-on tie and had been clipping it onto everything he’d worn for the past two weeks, including his Star Wars pajamas.
