Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine Cora would let go of our time apart as easily as she did. I assumed it would come back up, that she'd have more questions, try to delve into the depths of my misdeeds, even insist I stop communicating with Chelsea, but not once did she broach the subject the entire time I was in Paris. She dragged me all over the city doing the tourist bit, and I loved every minute of it. It was as if time ceased to exist, and the world ushered us into a cocoon of isolation where the two of us reunited. Every minute we spent together—whether it was at the Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomphe—was perfection. I'd laughed when she told me we were going to Disneyland Paris, but we had the time of our lives with Mickey and the gang. The Louvre and Notre Dame were just as magnificent as I'd expected them to be, yet it was magical getting to experience them with Cora by my side. She convinced me to try foods I'd never considered in cafes that only existed in
The week had been perfect, and today would make or break us. I needed to either move forward or move on—her answer this afternoon would determine which direction I went at the crossroad before me. I could only pray our paths were the same. "Are we on a timetable?" "Not really, we have reservations at eight-thirty tonight. Nothing's set in stone prior. Why?" I stood and gathered the plates from the table, but before I could get more than a couple steps away, she latched onto the waistband of my shorts and pulled me back to her. "I want to take our time getting cleaned up." Her expression hinted at mischief, yet when she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, it turned erotic. The dishes could wait. "Lead the way." I didn't care where she took me or what she had in mind—I'd follow…even if I hadn't expected it to be a sensual shower together. My willpower was waning. Every touch of her skin against mine left me weak, and my resolve not to fuse our bodies into o
Five o'clock traffic was unusually light, or maybe I'd hoped I'd get caught behind a six-car pileup that would take me well into the night. When that hadn't happened, I pulled in behind James. The drive hadn't prepared me to have this conversation with my husband—nothing could. While I sat in my car taking deep, cleansing breaths to keep the anxiety attack at bay, James had gotten out of his and walked toward me. He tapped on the glass with his knuckles. With a silent prayer and a quick deal with God, I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and got out to greet him. "Hey, babe." James kissed me the way he did every night when he came home, except normally it was in welcome. Tonight something was off. "Why are you home so early? Does your head still hurt?" I peered up at my husband, aware my brow was knitted and concern creased my forehead. He wasn't prone to migraines, but he'd had one last night that put him in bed before the sun went down. He snaked an arm aro
At that moment, I needed to connect to my husband, the man I loved, the one I'd committed my life to, because the world didn't make sense without him. I needed a reminder of the bond we shared and that the world fell away when his skin was flush with mine. James didn't question me when I pulled him to our bedroom, or when I undressed him before removing my own clothes, or when I pushed him down on the mattress. And when I straddled his waist and he sunk into me, his eyes remained focused on mine without a word uttered between us. He let me be the aggressor, expending the negative energy his news had brought, casting aside my disdain for Drake Halifax, and when the tears began to fall, he rolled me over, reminded me of how desperately he loved me, and brought me back home…to the place where nothing could hurt us, as long as we were together. Lying next to each other—my chest pressed to his, our sticky skin cooling off—he ran his fingers through my hair and traced my cheek with
Sitting on a plane, waiting to taxi down the runway, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd made the right decision. I hadn't been surprised when Drake had let me go two days earlier—I couldn't say I was upset, either. I loved my job, on the other hand, the man who owned the company left a lot to be desired. He'd taken far too great an interest in me since the day I'd started. Flattery had quickly turned to irritation when he scrutinized every move I made. And James was right, we didn't need the money. Although, it still felt like failure. James and I hadn't talked much since the night he told me about Chelsea. He was lost in his head, and I was content to let him stay there. It wasn't that I wasn't supportive, I just wondered how our lives were going to change and whether or not I could handle it. I'd never had a desire for children, however, I didn't have an aversion to them. I didn't want for my child exactly what I'd grown up to face and what this poor kid was facing at such an ear
Mother Nature had delivered a perfect day to meet the newest member of our family. I wanted to believe it was a sign that everything would work out. However, in the time since we'd left the offices of Clary, White, & Boyd, James had already pulled back. It had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the apprehension over meeting his son, who was not a newborn, but a child who knew little about him. I expected us to do this together, though now I felt like I was somehow intruding on their initial meeting. "Do you not want me to go?" We sat in the car at the end of the pier, staring out at a place the two of us had been hundreds of times before. It was as familiar to us as New York. I couldn't count the number of memories we shared on that very pier and along that shore. "I do. I'm just afraid we'll overwhelm him. And I've never met Dottie. It's not you. I'm just a mess. I absolutely need you here, just bear with me. I'm flying by the seat of my pants, and I'm abo
I managed to keep my cool at the playground, although only by the grace of God. We had stayed for about two hours and then wandered down the street to grab an early dinner. I was shocked by how easily James and Legend had fallen into a groove. He'd never indicated a desire for children, yet seeing him with the little redhead made it obvious he was a natural. Luckily, Gwendolyn—or Dottie, whatever her name was—focused on James and Legend and left me to myself to stew over her reappearance in my life. Legend monopolized the conversation, telling James everything he'd ever done, all his favorite foods, favorite color—blue, favorite superhero—Green Lantern, and anything else that came to mind. I interjected where I could without disrupting the flow of the conversation, but mostly, I watched in disbelief. I witnessed a side of my husband I'd never seen and met a version of my grandmother I wasn't aware existed. And I wondered why she hadn't been that loving with me when my parents had
Oh crap, so this was how he planned to lay things out—just dump it all on the table and then sort out the pieces. It was the same way he put together a puzzle—zero logic or planning. James was not an outside-edge-first kind of guy, and he never looked at the picture on the box. No part of this scenario could go well. If I thought I could hold my breath during the entire revelation, I would, just so I didn't miss a single word. It was a sadistic kind of anticipation that my husband wouldn't fare well in. "This morning? What on earth took you so long to get here?" she asked as she passed mugs and dessert plates around the island in the kitchen. This was where his plan came to a grinding halt. I loved my husband, but when it came to matters of the heart, he didn't take calculated risks—he went all in with everything he had. It was part of what made him such an amazing man and incredible lover—although, I didn't get the impression Brock and Susan Carpenter were going to be
I missed my mama every day. She told me she'd have to go to heaven first, but I hadn't really believed her. Or maybe I didn't understand what that meant. Everything she told me had been true. My daddy came to take his turn when hers was over, and he brought Cora. My mama hadn't been able to tell me much about her except that she would love me. And she'd been right. Daddy and I played when he'd get home from work, but Cora was my best friend. We made scrapbooks together and told stories about our mamas, and when I wanted to cry, she didn't treat me like a baby. She held me, and she cried, too. I knew she was sad here, even if she never told me, so I took her out every day looking for a friend—not for me, for Cora. And every time I saw a shooting star, I gave Cora my wish. When I started school, I met lots of kids. My teacher said they were friends—but I didn't think if someone bit you or hit someone else that made them a friend. I thought it made them mean. Maybe Cora should t
Chapter 71: Cora"So when do we get to meet the little urchin?" Neil was excited to meet his best friend's son. "Cora's grandmother is bringing him home around lunch." "How's that going, Cora?" The concern on Neil's face was endearing. "Really well. It's not going to fix itself overnight, even so, I think we're both trying. And that's about all we can do right now. Legend makes it a lot easier." "Does anyone have any idea why his mom gave him such an…odd name?" Hannah had chosen her words carefully as not to offend James, but he'd wondered the same thing. "We haven't asked." I wanted to. However, with everything else going on, it seemed to be at the bottom of the list of things to question. Before the conversation of namesakes could continue, the front door flew open as the doorbell rang. Gwendolyn tried to respect the Carpenters, while Legend had already made himself at home. "Daddy, look what Dottie got me." He flew through the foyer and into the b
Having joint custody of a young child was exhausting. We weren't obligated by court order to give Gwendolyn any time, but Legend loved her, and it gave me an excuse to spend time with her out of perceived obligation. I didn't have to admit I was anxious to get to know her or that I had questions. I didn't have to tell her I'd done nothing besides think about all the ways I'd missed out over the years. I got to use Legend as an excuse to have lunch with her during an exchange or walk on the beach while he played in the waves, or sit on a park bench when he climbed on a jungle gym like a monkey. And each opportunity opened the door to a relationship I'd never imagined I'd have, much less crave. Day by day, I realized what I would have missed out on had I not given her the chance. And I tried not to dwell on all I'd lost in favor of all I had to gain. "I'm going to miss you tonight, buddy." Legend was tall and lanky, much like the pictures I'd seen of James at his age, and he gave th
"So your father was Chelsea's dad, but she never met him, which makes you Legend's aunt and stepmother? And Gwendolyn, or Dottie, is not only your grandmother; she's my son's great-grandmother? For a Chase, that sounds awfully reprehensible and totally preposterous—not to mention, a tad trashy." I couldn't tell if he didn't buy it or he was so dumbfounded that reality hadn't quite hit him. So I stood there with my arms crossed over my chest, my hip cocked to the side against the dresser, and a death glare on my face while I blinked slowly in his direction. He continued to move about our room getting ready for bed, and still, I said nothing—waiting for it to register. When he finally stopped, presumably because I hadn't made a peep, I pursed my lips and raised my brow, daring him to make another joke. "Baby, what do you want me to say?" He patted the mattress next to him, but I remained firmly planted. "I can't begin to wrap my mind around any of the twisted pieces in the puzz
I wandered aimlessly across the island. Although, the years of blame and weeks of turmoil with Gwendolyn at the forefront subsided. Eventually, I had to end up back at the Carpenters', nevertheless my mind was a disaster. The farther I walked, the more muddled I became. I'd cried more in the last two hours than I could remember in the last two years. Tears didn't bring clarity, only a headache. I couldn't imagine how I'd tell James that Legend had a fifty percent chance of having Huntingtons, much less suggest having him tested. Moreover, I couldn't figure out why we would want a death sentence for a child we'd just met. If there wasn't a cure, then why live with that looming overhead. It made no sense to me, but it wasn't my choice to make. Legend wasn't my son—not biologically anyway. James and Gwendolyn would need to be the ones to make that decision. I didn't envy either in that choice and wished I could fix it with a hug, since that was about all I had to offer. When th
"Was she sick when she got pregnant?" "Yes. Although, I doubt James even realized it. She had tremors in her hands, and at that point, she wasn't comfortable driving because every once in a while, she'd get turned around. However, most of her symptoms were easily masked as fatigue or clumsiness. And she wasn't around James much before he left town. The disease didn't progress drastically until Legend was about three." "How could she have ever thought she could raise a child alone?" The part of me that had been grateful to Chelsea for the gift she'd given us had turned to rage. "I can't imagine being so selfish knowing she was going to die and that child would have no one." "He had me. The same way she always had. And in her eyes, that was a great life." "Explain that to me. How did my dad go from knocking up her mom to you being the grandmother to her that you never were to me?" "Would you like some more coffee, dear?" I could tell that was her way of try
I made it to the end of the driveway before curiosity got the better of me. I shouldn't care what she'd meant by so did they, yet each step I took got harder as the sentiment echoed in my mind. I stopped and stared at the sky, cursing God for giving me a heart that made me unable to let those three words go. "Ugh," I groaned to no one. Nothing she could say would change anything. Still, for some reason, I couldn't walk away. It was like not picking up the next book after a major cliffhanger. I had to have the truth, even if the ending sucked. My shoulders dropped in defeat, and I pivoted on the ball of my foot to head back to my grandmother's porch. Each time I lifted my foot, taking me closer to her front door, I cringed inside. "Get the information. In and out. You don't have to make friends with her or even peace. Just find out her side and go." Talking to myself in my head was one thing; doing it out loud took my irritation to a whole new level. I sounded like an i
When the door finally cracked open, I was met by a face I wanted to love but couldn't figure out how. "I had hoped you'd come by at some point. Please, come in." She ushered me through and straight into her home. "Is everything all right with Legend?" Gwendolyn asked as she pointed me toward the couch. "Oh yeah, he's fine. He and James went to the park." "Would you like some coffee?" Coffee indicated I'd be here a while. It would also give me something to do besides fidget with my hands and pick at my fingers. "That would be nice, thank you." She made her way to the kitchen, leaving me on the couch. "Your father was a big coffee drinker, although, I don't recall your mother ever liking it much." I smiled at the memory. My love of the drink had indeed come from my dad. "She didn't care for it, but I used to steal sips of his when he wasn't looking." It had slipped out before I realized I was being civil. "Are you hungry? I have some muffins." "N
"How are things going?" I hadn't had much time to talk to Hannah since we'd left New York, and I missed my best friend. "Status quo. The real question is how are you holding up?" The concern was evident in Hannah's tone. "Honestly, I'm struggling, but not with what you'd expect." "Oh yeah? Insta-mom has been a walk in the park?" She giggled. "Hannah, he's awesome. You're going to love him. He looks nothing like James, but it's uncanny how similar the two are. I'm completely gone for him." "Then what's the problem, are you jealous?" "Of what?" I'd just told her how much I adored Legend. There was no reason to think I'd be jealous of his relationship with his dad. "The other woman," she whispered as if Chelsea were a secret. "You are aware she passed away, right?" "Yeah, but she still had your husband's child. And I remember how you felt about her when you were in France. This has to be like a giant slap in the face—her parting gift to you."