Page 6 of Fighting His Fate
“Died a few years ago. Heart attack.”
Christ. Was there anyone left?
As if answering his own question, he added, “I don’t know where the stepmom lives.” The minister nodded, his bulbous head bobbing like a child’s toy.
God, what did Grace see in this guy? She was vibrant and bold, full of energy, with a mischievous glint in her eye. This guy was staid and reliable. He would ruin her in no time, smother her with boredom and steadfast expectations as surely as baking soda could put out a fire.
The minister leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. “And you’re his cousin.”
“That’s right.”
“And a friend of the wife.”
“Yeah.” Brett stood up. “I’ve really got to go.” His hand was on the doorknob when the other man dropped a bomb.
“The children survived the accident."
His mind emptied in an instant, searching for a memory and finding none. Joni and Luke didn’t have any children—the last Brett knew—and the fact that they’d crossed such an important threshold without his knowledge highlighted the distance he’d so deliberately put between them.
It was his fault they’d lost touch. He’d all but written Joni out of his life, sending her calls directly to voicemail as a rule on his phone so he wouldn’t have to deal with her questions, so carefully pointed to chip away at his scabs. Luke had given up months earlier. He slowly turned around. “Children?”
“Twin boys, about a month old.”
Brett cursed under his breath, hating himself in that instant. “I didn’t know.”
The other man stood. “They belong with family.”
“Of course.” The next-of-kin conversation took on a whole new light. The pointed look in the preacher’s eye had Brett’s hands coming up in self-defense. “Luke’s stepmom. She’s the next of kin.”
“Then hopefully we can find her. But someone needs to care for them in the meantime.”
The preacher’s watery blue eyes spoke volumes, and Brett shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking. I can’t take them, okay? Joni never would’ve asked that of me. She knew me too well.”
“Normally, temporary foster care would be an option. I don’t know if you follow the news, but there was an incident in New York City last week that left a great number of children in need of temporary foster care. Our local agencies stepped in to help fill the need.”
Brett nodded. A child exploitation ring had been uncovered, involving upwards of fifty minors. “I saw that.”
“It stretched the local foster care system to its max. We don’t have a placement available for the twins.” He looked to the floor, then back at Brett. “But you could take them.”
Anxiety grabbed Brett by the throat, blood rushing in his ears. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He couldn't take care of two babies on a good day, had no desire to try. And hell, this was anything but a good day. He could see axes flying toward him in the air, sharp pointed bits of responsibility. “You’ve got the wrong guy,” he said, his voice cracking. “I’d help if I could, but I just can’t, okay?” He could feel his tenuous control of his emotions wiggling out of his grasp, and he pushed by the pastor to get to the door.
“They need you, Brett.”
Brett froze with his hand on that goddamn doorknob for the second time in as many minutes, but the exit he so desperately needed remained out of reach.
“They just lost their mother and father,” the preacher continued. “They’re all alone in the world with no one to care for them. You are a blood relative and a friend.”
Those poor kids. In the space of an instant, they’d lost the only family they’d ever known, but that didn’t somehow make Brett capable of replacing them. “Sorry, but that’s not an option.” He opened the door just as an announcement came over the PA.
“Code kinder! He just left the lounge! Code kinder!”
The hair went up on his arms at the woman’s tone of voice, fear and urgency broadcasting throughout the building. He turned to the minister, whose eyes were wide with alarm, his body practically lunging for the door.
“That’s Grace!” the minister snapped. “A child’s in danger in the lounge!”
5
Grace wasn’tsure what woke her, the haze of sleep clouding her mind as she took in the darkened hospital lounge around her and the baby cuddled on her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut and stretched her aching neck, remembering the twins and the accident that had taken their parents, the late-night vigil she’d kept with the boys.
