The arrests ranged from the Pacific Northwest, down into southern California and up into Canada. There were of course, other ties to international criminals, and Interpol as well as the CIA processed those. Those arrests weren’t widely known, but probably because Sandra wanted Bennett to feel safe, she would report when an arrest was made.
I hadn’t seen him for a full week when he finally showed up one day at the worksite along with Bentley and Sandra. He asked if he could speak with me alone.
I nodded and he led the way to the basement, the only place where there was privacy. We sat on a couple of buckets that had been left down there, and Bennett surprised me by taking my hand.
“Over the past few days while it seems like I’ve been questioned by every law enforcement agency in the world. I had just one thought that kept going through my mind. You. When I thought you might be killed by my dad, I didn’t think I’d survive it. They were taking the last thing I cared about...no, probably the most important thing I’ve ever cared about, away from me. That was you. I love you Les, like I’ve never loved another man. Hell, the truth is I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before. I know I pushed you away. Hell, I doubt I’d give me another chance if I were in your shoes, but you should know how I feel.”
When I started to reply, he put his hand up. “Please, let me finish.” He sighed and wiped at a tear that had formed and slipped down his cheek. “Even if you decide you want me, you should know I’m a total mess and if it gets out that I’ve been involved with this, or if the public thinks I was involved, I will never work in the industry again. I’m honestly not sure how they’ve kept all this out of the press this far, unless your cousin Bentley was somehow pulling strings. If you’d like to give this …us, another go, I promise I’ll love you with my whole heart and never betray you, or leave you or…”
He didn’t finish because I pulled him into a kiss. I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t stand not to have him in my arms for another second. When I pulled back, Bennett smiled.
“I love you too,” I replied, and you know I come as a package, a large, overwhelming package, but if you’ll let them, My family will love you too, Bennett.
I’ve never wanted someone as much as I want you. I’ve never loved someone so much that it hurts when you’re away. Baby, I want you in my life forever and now that you’re back, and this whole thing is over, can we get married and make it forever, legally?”
Bennett’s face registered surprise and the tears he’d resisted now flowed freely down his cheeks. “If you’re crazy enough to marry me, Leslie Cooper, then I’ll be damned if I say no!”
Epilogue
Bennett
The theme of our show was transformation. It’d been that way since Les walked into my life. Since meeting him, not only had the tired old homes I inherited from my grandfather been transformed, but so had my life and the lives of numerous other people.
I stared at the ring on my finger and said, “Bennett Cooper.” And I kept repeating the name over and over. It had been less than a month since our marriage and it still seemed so surreal to me.
“You’re giving me a complex,” Les said from across the room, “are you regretting you took my name?”
We were putting the finishing touches on the living room of the huge mansion project and hoped to start the kitchen now that most of the painting had been done on this floor.
Les’ entire family stopped what they were doing and stared at me.
I smiled and sauntered over to where Les was installing a piece of wainscoting.
When I got to him, I leaned over but made sure I spoke loud enough for the entire room to hear and asked, “And what if I am?”
Les leaned up and stared at me through squinted eyes. I noticed then that we had several cameras on us, catching the action.
“You signed a contract, Bennett Cooper. It’s too late to renege on it now,” he smirked.
“Nope, a contract is only valid if there’s something of value.” I replied.
“Are you saying there’s no value in the Cooper name?”
“Oh no, there’s plenty value in the Cooper name, but seeing as this name is supposed to come with sweet kisses, rose gardens, and poetry, I’m feeling you might be in breach of contract.”
I heard his mother and sister snicker nearby and Les glanced over at them, climbed up on top of a bucket of paint and said:
“Roses are red, violets are blue,
Bennett Cooper is mine and he loves me too!”
The entire room erupted in laughter and applause. When he hopped off the bucket, he grabbed me into an embrace and kissed my brains to mush.
When we finally came up for air, he asked, “Was that good enough for you?”
When I recovered from the kiss enough to gather my wits, I nodded then kissed him on the cheek before I turned out of his grasp. As I walked toward the camera Emmitt was holding, I said, “Now you better get to work on that rose garden.”
The big mansion house had been more work than we’d anticipated. There were not only the typical issues that needed to be addressed, but also overruns, delays, a city that seemed to find perverse joy in shutting us down for every little thing, and a variety of small issues that got under your skin like little prickly thorns.
When it was done though, the house sparkled like a jewel in a crown.
__________
One evening while Les was out doing a commercial for some hardware company, Les’ family sat me down at the table for a conversation.
“We think you and Les should move into the mansion house.” Mrs. Cooper said.
“What? No, it’s too big.” I immediately rebuffed her.
“Is it because your grandfather lived there?” Mrs. Cooper asked.
I laughed. “No, it doesn’t remotely resemble what it was when my grandfather lived there.” Although to be honest, my reticence had everything to do with my memories of the home before the Coopers had gotten a hold of it.
“Then if it isn’t personal, we all think you both should move in,” she waved her hand around the room to indicate the entire family was supportive.
“It’s just too much for us. I’m a simple man, and I like simple things.”
“Well, if you take our suggestion, it wouldn’t be just that you and Les would live there. We’d like to turn the lower level into our private offices.” Mrs. Cooper said as Les’ family watched me for my reaction.
“It’s a residential area. They won’t let us put an office there.” I replied.
“Well, not really. It’s designated as mixed use,” Mrs. Cooper explained, “there’s a loophole in the zoning law. Our attorney has already been over it and apparently as long as it is directly related to construction, we can have our offices there.”
“So, you’re proposing that we keep the house and use it as both the offices for our construction company and that Les and I live there.”
The entire group nodded, and I laughed in spite of myself. “That would suck for a newly wedded couple, don’t you think?”
“Well, not really,” Mrs. Cooper said, “because of the home’s layout, you’d have all the privacy you needed. We could add just one wall, then the back part of the first floor would be completely separated from your living space.”
“Where would you all live?” I asked, immediately suspicious they were all really thinking about moving in.
Mrs. Cooper chuckled, “Well that’s another topic of discussion. We want to purchase the duplex from you. It’s perfect for us and if the office was relocated to the house, it would be a great place for us all to live, until of course we’re all better settled.”
I shook my head, then eyed Les’ parents. “So, you’re approaching me with this while Les is away because you didn’t want him to shut it all down?”
They all looked guilty, causing me to laugh again.
“Does he have any idea?” I asked and their blank stares told me he didn’t.
“You’re all gonna be in so much troubl
e when he finds out. I honestly think it’s a good idea except that monster home is way more than I need myself. If Les wants to consider it, we need to think about using only a portion of it as our home and offices. I’m not sure what we’d do with the rest.”
“Unless you decide to start a family.” Mrs. Cooper said with a wink.
Les’ brother laughed. “Subtle, Mom!” He said, earning him a wicked glare from her.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You all are nuts.”
That night when I told Les what they’d done, he about blew a gasket. I couldn’t help but be amused by it though.
“What?” he asked me. “You aren’t upset?”
“No, of course not. I think it was sort of sweet, actually. They’re trying to figure out how to make everything work and of course, they want to put us up in the lap of luxury.”
“Are you actually considering it?”
“I did for a moment, but honestly, I don’t want to live there. It’s beautiful, classic, and full of life thanks to your family, but it’s not me. It’s never been me really and as wonderful as it is, it’ll always represent sadness to me. I’d rather a family who can have a fresh start buy it and give it a new lease on life.”
Les sighed with relief. “We should probably talk about where we do want to live though, unless we want to continue living in the basement of the duplex.”
“Oh, that’s another thing. They want to buy the duplex. I think your family is happy there and plans to continue living in it.”
“Then we definitely need to consider a different place to live, if only we knew someone who owned half of the homes in Seattle.” He teased me.
I leaned over for a kiss and said, “Well, your family did cause me to think. The only commercial property my grandpa owned is located not far from where the old Victorian project was. It’s an early 19th century, brick building. It’s not the prettiest thing on the planet but it has potential. There are two dilapidated apartments upstairs that could be combined to give us an enormous loft space. There’s a view out the back corner of Puget Sound and if we used the flat top roof as our yard, the view would be even better. The best part is the renovation company could be put down on the first level which means everyone would have adequate privacy.”
When we showed the space to Les’ family, they all quickly rallied behind the idea. The drive from the duplex wasn’t bad and an office space that was meant to be an office space saved us from the headaches of the city’s zoning people.
My grandfather’s house sold before it was officially listed. After it was gone, we threw all our efforts into renovating the commercial space and our loft above it. It was perfect in every way. When we were done, Les and I could wake up and stumble down the stairs to the offices where his family were often gathering to discuss plans for the day.
The week after the loft/office renovation was done, we scoped out the rest of the work needed on the remaining homes and divided it out among the family. It filled my heart that because of the Coopers, my grandfather’s real estate empire was going to be turned into a considerable asset for downtown Seattle.
As awful as my life had been before and as horrible as my grandfather had been when he was alive, I had to thank him for bringing Les and his family into my life. I found out I loved construction, or more concisely, interior design. The show continued to follow Les and I as we renovated more homes using our family as the main contractors.
Les’s mom became my mentor and best friend. She helped me learn all the nuances of the business and when she and Mr. Cooper semi-retired a year later, I was able to help everyone go through the homes and design them appropriately.
As I took on the role of designer, our ratings began to improve even more and the show became so popular Mrs. Cooper and I started designing our own furniture line that represented a mix of the classics and more modern furniture.
I thought life was complete and I leaned into it thinking I’d finally found my balance. Life was what I wanted it to be and I would be happy if I never faced another major challenge as long as I lived. Unfortunately, fate had a different idea.
Three years and one week after Les and I were married, just as I thought my father was out of my life for good, I received a bizarre phone call from Child Protective Services.
“Have you been in contact with your sister lately?” the woman asked.
“Sister? I don’t have a sister.” I told her.
“Is your father Raymond Jackson?” She asked.
“Yes, but he’s in prison. And as far as I know, I’m his only child.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry that I’m the one who has to tell you this, but Mr. Jackson was the father of Emily Frazier.”
The line was silent as I digested what she was trying to say and noticed the past tense she’d used
“Is she hurt? Is she in foster care or something?” I asked, wondering how young this sister I’d never heard about must have been.
“No, I’m sorry. Your sister was in prison until last week. You’re her next of kin, so we’re contacting you regarding her body and of course, her infant daughter.”
“Infant daughter?” I asked, realizing I was parroting her.
“Your sister had a baby right before she was… well before she passed away.”
“My sister, who I’ve never heard about before, has an infant daughter?”
I was beginning to think I was being set up. The Coopers were always playing practical jokes, but this one was feeling particularly cruel.
When I sat silent for a moment, the woman said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson, this is a lot to take in. But we are going to have to make decisions soon regarding your niece. Is there a time I could come meet with you?”
“Sure.” I managed to mash my brain together enough to set up a meeting for the following morning. I gave her the address for the office and when she hung up, I went out into the main area, half expecting everyone to start laughing at me. When they didn’t, I asked if anyone was pulling my leg.
When they all looked at me with blank expressions, I had to grab onto the doorframe where I was standing, “Oh crap, this is unreal!”
I left without explaining, went up to the loft, and laid on our bed. When Les showed up an hour or so later, he asked if I was okay.
“Not really, I have a sister. I mean, I had a sister...she’s dead. She had a daughter, I’m an uncle! A woman from CPS called and wants to meet with me.” I realized I was talking all at once, but I needed to get all this out and into the hands of the person I’d come to depend on to help me navigate the world when it got crazy.
He looked at me with sadness. “I’m sorry, honey. You don’t seem to be able to get a break with this family stuff. Do you want me to be with you when you meet the lady from CPS?”
I let the tears slide down. I didn’t know this sister, but from the way the woman on the phone spoke, apparently, she’d died violently. I wondered if my dad had something to do with her incarceration, like he’d tried to do with me.
Les held me until I finally got myself together and we skipped the big meal we usually shared together with his family to spend a quiet night together. I decided I wanted to meet the CPS lady alone and find out more about my sister and her daughter.
The next morning, the woman from Child Protection Services showed up in a flowery dress and smelling like she’d poured most of a bottle of perfume on. I decided the best place to meet was in the conference room of the business instead of having her come up to the residence. She carried a notebook which she opened immediately after sitting down and produced photos of a tiny infant. I know I must’ve been staring at her like she came from a different planet.
She immediately launched into why she was here, “This will be difficult to hear, and I apologize, but I don’t know how to explain it without just being direct. As I told you on the phone yesterday, you are Emily Frazier’s next of kin. In fact, with the exception of your father, you are her only kin. Since at the time of her death, we were una
ware you were her next of kin, Mrs. Frazier was cremated after her death but you can claim her ashes at this address.” She pointed to an address on the bottom of a form she handed me.
When I continued to stare at her shell-shocked, she said, “What’s more pressing is you’re entitled to the care of your niece. We need to know if you intend to accept parental responsibility for the infant.”
I swallowed hard and felt my insides swirling around. I hadn’t even thought about us possibly being the baby’s guardian.
The woman sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson, I know this is a lot to take in. I assure you there are plenty of families willing to take the baby. She’s healthy, eight pounds, three ounces and because she was born in prison, there should be no drugs in her system.”
When she noticed me express confusion she quickly explained, “Unfortunately, your sister struggled with addiction throughout her life. Take a day to think about it. If you decide you do want your niece, I’ll need to begin the paperwork along with a home inspection to ensure you have adequate space for the child. I’ll call you tomorrow to find out what you’ve decided.” She stood up to leave then put the envelope back on the table and smiled, “I’ll leave these pictures with you for now.”
I nodded, but as the woman turned to leave I came back to reality and followed her out of the business’s conference room.
I went into the large kitchen/dining area we’d built onto the office space and collapsed into one of the armchairs internally digesting what I’d just learned. I had a sister. I have a niece. I’m her next of kin. They wanted to know if I was going to raise her.
Gradually, Les’ family gathered around me watching me like I’d grown another head. When Les came in, I was shocked. “Don’t you all have work to do today?” I asked.
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