I twist around and point across the room where Tinsley is listening intently to Dame Hardy, who is setting up a foundation for single mothers. We’ve done a deep background check, and it looks solid. Dame Hardy has a good track record, too. It’s just a matter of how much we want to give. From the interest that Tinsley is showing, I’m guessing the number is going to be large, but if I’ve learned anything in my last ten years with Tinsley, it’s that you often have to go big to make a difference.
I lift Gentry into my arms and carry her to the fixer.
“My bow fell off,” Gentry says as she reaches for her mother’s embrace.
“Not my area of expertise. How you doing, Dame?” I give the older woman a nod.
She bats her eyelashes and swats me across my biceps. “Lord, Leo, you get better looking with age. I don’t know why you couldn’t have waited for me.”
I cough into my fist. Dame Hardy’s husband passed last year. “Felt like you had a good man at the time.’
“Oh, honey, that was just a marriage of convenience. I married Jack for his protection. I had vultures circling, ready to steal my fortune. He said he’d take care of me, and he did, bless his heart.”
Jack Hardy was ninety when the fifty-year-old Dame tied the knot with him.
“You two wouldn’t understand because you married for love,” she continues, “which is a rare and wonderful thing. This is why your children are so beautiful. They’re made of love, aren’t you sweetheart?” She tweaks Gentry’s chin.
Gentry nods in agreement, although I don’t think she knows what she’s agreeing to.
“Well,” sighs Dame, “think about my proposal, and if you find any bachelors, send them my way. I know you’ve investigated me within an inch of my life, Leo, and probably know me better than my own mother at this point.”
“I doubt that.” But she’s not entirely wrong. I do know more about Dame than most people, including that her recently deceased husband did do right by her. Not only did the crafty lawyer tie her estate up in a dozen unsolvable knots, but he also left her a hefty widow’s portion.
“Poor Howard Sterling says that he still looks over his shoulder and expects to see you there.”
“That was a decade ago,” I protest. Howard Sterling came up clean and got 20 million from Tinsley’s foundation.
“It was so traumatic he can never forget,” sighs Dame.
“We’ll give you my answer in a couple of days,” Tinsley interjects to stave off a fight between me and the older woman. “Let’s go fix Gentry’s bow and see how Edwards is doing with the rest of our crew.”
Dame allows us to leave, and we find Edwards outside in the museum’s courtyard, sitting underneath the large maple tree, surrounded by our other three kids and a host of others.
“And then the little lost bunny hears his mommy’s voice and hops over to her. ‘Mommy, I thought I lost you,’ cries the baby. Mommy bunny nuzzles baby bunny’s nose. ‘Darling, bunny, we will never be separated because we love each other and our love will always lead us home.’”
Gentry giggles and buries her face in Tinsley’s neck. “Uncle Edwards sounds funny,” she whispers.
“His mom voice needs some work,” I agree.
“I’ll have you know my mom voice is perfect,” Edwards declares, tucking the book away. The kids crowd around him as he hands out lollipops. Tinsley tightens Gentry’s bow and sends her to get her treat. Ours take their goodies and race toward Tinsley, Gentry and me. The two youngest, Petra and Rochelle, climb up my legs while the oldest, Dylan, leans against his mom’s side. I gather the two girls in my arms and revel in the small pats and kisses from the babies. This show of affection only lasts a few seconds before Petra and Rochelle wriggle free, wanting to go and explore the little garden made out of boxwoods shaped in different forms of animals. Gentry and Dylan follow behind, leaving the three of us adults alone.
“I had my doubts about you,” Edwards says.
“Edwards!” Tinsley exclaims. “You can’t say that.”
“Why not?” He sniffs. “It’s only true, and besides, Leo knows I don’t feel that way now.”
“It’s fine, baby.” I draw my wife into my embrace and drop a kiss on the top of her head.
“As I was saying, I had my doubts,” Edwards repeats. Tinsley sighs, and I laugh. Edwards is a lawyer. He’s always going to want the last word. “But you’ve shown yourself to be a stellar husband, father, and partner. Tinsley is safe with you, and that’s all her father wanted when he created the will. That’s all I wanted to say. You can wipe that sour look off your face, Tinsley.” He clasps his hands behind his back and gives us a slight bow. “I’ll go and see to the children.”