“Esther, go home and be with your family. I don’t want to see you again until the New Year.”
Instead of leaving, she walks into my office and stands over my desk. Esther was my dad’s personal assistant and has been with the company for almost two decades.
“This came in for you.” She holds an envelope in her hand, and I sigh. I reach for it, and her brown hands tremble as she hands it to me.
I recognize Scarlett’s handwriting.
“Thank you,” I say and she leaves. I stare at the envelope, unsure if I’m going to open it or not. I stare at it for so long, my vision gets blurry. This is the last thing I need now because I’ll have to tell Nia about it. She doesn’t deserve this. When we pledged our lives to each other, I never thought we’d be dealing with Scarlett for so long.
Just as I decide not to open it until later, my door opens and my mom enters. She’s in a long, red wool coat and matching hat. She looks good, if a little worried.
“I got this,” she says, handing me an envelope addressed to her from Scarlett. It’s open and she gestures for me to read it. I skim it and hand it back.
“It’s a bunch of bullshit,” I say. I lean back in my chair and sigh. “I don’t need this, Mom. She sounds unhinged. Why does she think you’re going to visit her in prison? And to say that you owe it to her? Insane.”
Mom sits on the chair opposite me. “I swear, I don’t know what that girl is thinking. And I’m so mad at your father, I could scream,” she says. “It ruined my day when all I was trying to do was prepare the house for Christmas Eve. I’m so sick of that entire fucking family. What the hell does Scarlett think I’ll be able to do for her?”
I don’t remember the last time I heard my mother use the F-word. No matter how old we get, she never curses around us. She’d admonish Dad each time he did it.
“The family likely believes they can convince you to convince me not to fight back about their request to the court.”
“I would never do that. She needs to stay where she is. All I want is for my kids and grandkids to have a good holiday. You all, especially you, have gone through so much. And it’s my fault. I want—”
“Mom, none of this is your fault.” It’s Dad’s and my fault, but I keep that to myself. There’s no point in laying blame now. The situation is what it is, and all I want for Christmas is to never think or talk about Scarlett and her family again.
“It is. I should have been a better mother. I should have paid attention, but I didn’t. I stuck my head in the sand and had blind faith in your father. All the signs were there, Drake, and I refused to see them. He changed before he got sick, and I know why now. I should have pushed. Had I known, you and Nia never would have been apart all this time.”
I stand and gesture for her to join me on the couch. When she does, I take her hand in mine. “Let’s not do that, Mom. Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t do any of this, and I don’t blame you.” I kiss the back of her hand. “And I’m so thankful to you for the way you’ve accepted Nia into this family.”
“Son, I will love whoever my children love. All I need to know is that they love you back, and Nia loves you so much.” She squeezes my hand. “And she’s a perfect fit in the company. I couldn’t ask for more. I love spending time with her, and not just because she’s your wife. I love her for her. Your father was so—”
“I don’t want to talk about Dad,” I say. She looksinto my eyes and cups my face.
“We have to, Drake. He’s gone, but his presence still looms larger than life. The things he’s set into motion are still affecting this family. Now, I think you should talk to Wyatt about getting a restraining order on Scarlett. I hope she breaks it so that she gets more time added to her sentence, because Son, I’m scared of what will happen when she serves her full sentence and gets out. She’s still obsessed with you. And let me tell you, I will stop at nothing to protect my kids and grandkids.” She finally smiles when she mentions the grandkids. She pulls her phone out of her purse and sticks it to my face. “Look at how cute Priya looks.” It’s a picture of my daughter in front of Mom’s Christmas tree. She’s looking at it in awe and reaching for an ornament. She’s in a long red dress with white fur on the sleeves. “And my little man,” she says, showing me one of Carter who is sticking his tongue out at the camera. “I might be biased, but Carter is the handsomest and smartest boy in the history of the world.”
“Oh, boy, Mom. Youmightbe biased?” I kiss her temple.
“How could your father do this? He’s our flesh and blood.” Mom starts to cry, and I pull her into my arms. I have no words of comfort to offer her, so I don’t try. I hold her until she gets control of herself. “Do you know we wanted more kids after Hannah, but I had a hard pregnancy with her? She was high-risk, and after that, your father didn’t want me to go through another pregnancy. We didn’t have any more, but I wanted to keep going. I miss having young kids at home. I wish I still had one. I loved when you all were young and lived at home. I loved the routine, and I loved watching you guys grow up.”
“Well, you have grandkids now,” is all I can think to say.
Chapter 27
Nia
“Baby,” Priya says while she cradles one of the ten baby dolls she received at Drake’s mother’s house on Christmas Eve. All ten come with their own uniquely made stroller and matching cribs. She rocks it in her arms with so much force that it falls to the floor. She picks it up, shoves it in the elaborate stroller, and pushes it around the living room. Only there is so much wrapping paper and boxes around that she can’t get very far.
Fortunately, her uncle Langley notices and clears some of the trash out of the way so she can play freely.
I play with the diamond pendant my husband gave me for Christmas. He also got me an entire wardrobe of maternity clothes to get me through this pregnancy complete with shoes and accessories.
“You like it?” I whisper to him.
His nod is the only answer. My husband is extremely hard to shop for. His only vice is expensive designer watches, and he likes to design those himself. I started working on his present last Christmas. It’s a carousel of pictures of our family for the past three hundred and sixty-five days. The pictures are all candid snapshots of us at home or out together as a family.
He stops at one of Priya and Carter. He’s holding her and she’s grabbing his nose. He puts his arm around me, pulls me close, and kisses my temple.
“Uncle Langley, look,” Carter says. He holds up the remote control and the dragon that Langley made for him flies around the living room. He presses a button, and a puff of smoke comes out.