Van turned, his lips shushing me as his body moved back and forth. Finally, he laid our almost three-month-old son in his crib. Taking my hand, we walked out into the hallway, gently closing the door.
“He woke up.”
“I didn’t hear him.”
Tugging me close, Van kissed me. “I did. Let me help.”
Van did more than help. He was a natural at the father thing. Thankfully, he was also a master at knowing what I needed. Whether it was a good night’s sleep, a warm bath, or time to go over reports from Wade’s first quarter. From the moment we met, Van had an uncanny ability to see me. To hear me. To understand me.
As for Wade, we were afloat. Considering where we’d been a year ago, that was saying a lot. It also turned out that Skylar was more knowledgeable than I’d given him credit for. Together we’d worked with representatives from our coalition of pharmacological companies. When I went on maternity leave, Skylar stepped in. He’d said he wanted to do it because he wanted out of the house, but I doubted that. Even through video chats, I could see that his desk was littered with pictures of his daughter.
It turned out that even though Skylar and I weren’t meant to love one another, we could work well together and be friends—what we were meant to be.
Even though Van no longer considered our threat level at Defcon 1, Van, Henri, and I weren’t alone. The man who had been a recluse was now surrounded.
Michael and Albert both agreed to stay in Ashland. They resided in the guesthouse.
It turned out that Michael wasn’t married or attached to anyone in Chicago. Apparently, the uniformed officer who came to our home with Detective Lawson and Michael had been seeing one another for a few months. Albert recently took a trip down to Florida. For the next two weeks, the only subject he spoke about was his son. Thinking of Henri, I understood. Paula also helped, staying with us three nights a week and spending at least a few hours with us almost every day.
Yes, Henri had four biological grandparents, but unquestionably, Paula filled the role.
My parents visited twice since Henri arrived. While I appreciated their help, I was as happy for them to leave as I was for them to arrive. When it came to the Thomases, Van had no desire to contact them, and I wouldn’t push. It would either happen or it wouldn’t. We had family and friends who loved us and Henri.
Speaking of family.
Now that we were in our bedroom, I asked, “Are you nervous?”
Leaning against the doorjamb, my husband crossed his arms over his wide chest. “I eat companies for breakfast and spit out their bones by lunch.”
I snickered. “Yeah, you’re nervous.”
Walking into the room, Van sat on the edge of our bed and looked up at the ceiling. “Twelve-year-olds aren’t scary—they’re terrifying.”
Brooklyn had recently had her twelfth birthday.
The psychiatrists determined that Madison was competent to stand trial. Her lawyers negotiated for her to stay in a maximum-security institution while awaiting trial. Lena spared no expense in getting Madison into one of the best facilities in the country. Last we heard, Madison was taking art classes.
Phillip pled guilty to avoid a trial and a heavier sentence. While his mental acuities were never in question, if you asked me, I’d say they should be. The one good thing he did was to relinquish full custody of Brooklyn to Olivia. Van’s parents didn’t argue, and neither Lena nor Van contested the move. It took nearly a year of legal wrangling to dissolve the order Phillip had requiring Van to keep his distance from Brooklyn. The sticking point was that Van initially agreed to abide by it.
Tomorrow, Liv and Brooklyn were coming to our home for a stay.
I sat on the bed beside my husband. “Liv and Lena have both said that Brooklyn is excited to meet her uncle.”
Van nodded. “Fucking twelve years. I was holding Henri and thinking about how much he’s changed in three months. Twelve years I’ve lost.”
“You didn’t lose them, Van. You watched her. Someday if you want to share that, to let her know that you have always cared, you can. Now it’s about getting to know one another.”
“I can’t believe she’ll be here.”
Smiling, I climbed over Van’s legs, wrapping mine around him. With his fingers splayed on my lower back and me on his lap, I leaned back and stared into the emerald eyes I loved. “I wonder if she has the gold.”
Van grinned. “Tomorrow we’ll see for ourselves.”
Moving his hand to my hair, Van pulled me against him. In his grasp, I felt his heart beat against mine. Our lips connected as our tongues danced. Van tasted like bourbon and toothpaste with a side of nerves. Fidgeting on his lap, my need grew as his hands found their way beneath my top.
Leaning back, he grinned. “Strip for me, beautiful.”
My gaze went to the monitor showing black and white footage of our sleeping son.