Chapter 2

TWO

Present

The younger children finally fall asleep after what can only be described as a hectic night.

Thankfully, none of them cried for their parents. Instead, it was quite the opposite. They were excited to be sleeping over, and energy levels took a while to dwindle until we managed to bathe them and read multiple stories, waiting until gentle snores graced the room.

I’d forgotten just how exhausting children can be, but I make a mental note to keep it to myself and not show Charlotte my weakness.

“Okay, kids are exhausting.” She lets out a long-winded breath, closing her eyes momentarily. “How did we raise four girls?”

My lips curve upward into a smile. “You are supermom, that’s how.”

“C’mon, I couldn’t have done it without you. Addy’s soccer games? How you had the patience for that is beyond me.”

“I gladly took Addy’s soccer games over Ava’s ballet lessons.”

Charlotte snorts. “All fun and games until they hit puberty, and those activities were no longer fun. I can’t recall the last time I’ve seen Ava perform a pirouette.”

We walk a few steps to the room Ashton is sleeping in. Amelia recommended separating the boys for our own sanity. Apparently, if they’re sleeping in the same room, you’re guaranteed one will wake the other one up at some god-awful hour then a fight will break out due to exhaustion.

My hand rests on the doorknob as I knock with the other gently.

“Hey, buddy, still awake?”

Ashton turns to his side, resting his face in his hands. “I’m just thinking.”

I glance at Charlotte, wondering what a five-year-old thinks about that doesn’t involve monster trucks or dinosaurs. Amelia mentioned his Pokémon obsession, something I was forced to learn when Will was a young boy and went through the same stage.

We both sit beside Ashton, careful not to squash him.

“Thinking is sometimes nice to do alone,” Charlotte assures him.

Ashton purses his lips with his wide blue eyes staring back at us. It’s not unusual for Ashton to stay the night, so we decorated this room just for him. He chose the colors and theme. It’s nice to see other colors used besides pink.

“Did you know I have another Mommy who lives in heaven?”

My eyes fixate on him, careful not to swing to Charlotte like a desperate man calling for a life jacket. The voices in my head are running rampant, unsure how to respond to such a loaded question. Yet, my smile remains fixed, praying Charlotte is the first to respond.

“Yes,” she simply says with a smile. “You’re a very lucky boy to have two mommies.”

Ashton’s expression remains blank, not giving us any indication of how he is feeling about this.

“Daddy and Mommy said I was so special, they had to take me home because they were so sad without me.”

I nod, the only response I’m able to make. “Yes, it’s true.”

Charlotte moves the loose strand of hair away from his forehead.

“There are so many ways to be part of a family,” she tells him softly. “And I thank God every day he chose you to be part of our family.”

“But if God chose me to be part of this family, why can’t my other mommy stay too?”

The walls inside my chest begin to cave, the breathing becoming tighter and restrictive. How do you even explain to him the car accident that killed his biological mother? Or even the fact of his biological father not wanting to keep him? Oddly so, I’ve crossed paths with Stewart Knight and have a very low opinion of him. He knows Ashton is my grandson, though at least he’s smart enough to avoid me when we see each other.

I lean forward, staring into Ashton’s eyes while cupping his hand in mine. His hand is so small, and a part of me often wonders if this is what it would have felt like if our son had survived.

“Your other mommy was so special that God had plans for her. Sometimes, this happens,” I say softly. “But you know what? You are our first grandchild, and that’s just the way it was always meant to be.”

Ashton lets out a small yawn, then, briefly, a small smile on his tired face.

“I like being the first. Maybe I’m special too.”

Slowly, I lean in to kiss his forehead. “You’re very special. Now, it’s bedtime, kiddo.”

Ashton nods, then quickly tugs my sleeve. “Don’t forget we’re going to the park tomorrow for my soccer game.”

A small laugh leaves my lips. “You’re talking to an ex-soccer coach. I promise I will be here after work to take you and your brother.”

“I love you, Grandpapa.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

Charlotte tucks him in before gently bringing the door to a close as I wait just outside the room. The welcoming silence is the sound of heaven until her hand reaches out for my own. With a heaviness upon us, we walk quietly to our master bedroom, which is only a few doors down.

Inside the room, we prepare for bed in silence, unsure how to navigate our thoughts from an innocent moment that came from our grandson. After a quick shower, brushing my teeth, and changing into my bed shorts, I climb into bed, staring at my wedding ring while waiting for Charlotte to return.

My phone beeps on the nightstand beside m. It’s nothing unusual, most likely work which for now can be ignored. There are other things on my mind and maybe other things I need to get off my chest.

Charlotte walks back into the bedroom dressed in her silk white pajamas’ and then climbs into bed. Immediately, the fresh scent of soap engulfs the air between us.

“I have to admit, Ashton caught me off guard tonight,” I say quietly, unsure how to articulate my thoughts.

“Well, I guess it was bound to come up. I know Will and Amelia have always wanted to be open with Ashton.” Charlotte’s chest rises, then falls with a sigh escaping her. “They want him to know where he came from. I’ve seen this a lot, of course. It’s one of those things which you’ve just got to somehow navigate through as a family.”

“I understand, but don’t you think he’s too young?”

“Yes, no,” Charlotte murmurs while toying with the edge of the bedsheet. “There’s never a right answer, nor is there a predicted outcome. Some children ask questions out of curiosity, and nothing changes in their lives. Then others ask the questions, and it changes everything.”

When it comes to family matters such as this, Charlotte is the expert. Over her career, she’s handled many family law cases. Some, with a positive outcome, and others, where she came home defeated because some deadbeat dad was awarded custody of his children.

Charlotte continues, “Some parents choose to hide the fact that their child is adopted or fostered, and you know, all of these things really shouldn’t matter if you have the love of a parent and a family. But… I’ve never been in either situation myself, so maybe I would feel differently being on either end.”

My hand moves on top of hers, caressing it gently. We’ve been blessed with our family, which I’m grateful for daily. As for Will and Amelia, Ashton was always meant to be in their lives. They made a big decision, one our whole family is eternally grateful for.

“I can’t imagine our lives without him,” I say honestly.

“I think it’s a positive thing Ashton is asking these questions early, but it’s hard. He’s our grandson. I don’t want to say the wrong things and upset Will and Amelia.”

“He is our grandson,” I repeat. “Maybe that’s why this feels harder.”

Charlotte turns to face me, sensing my vulnerability. “Is there something you’re afraid of? We won’t lose him. I promise you Stewart has no parental rights to take his son back.”

“If I’m being honest here, resentment maybe when he’s older.”

“You know that will never happen. Will and Amelia are amazing parents. Ashton is blessed to have them as they are blessed to have him. He has a supportive family, plus he has brothers and cousins, aunts and uncles. To add, he has us.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “You forgot about Rocky and Nikki.”

A sly smile plays on Charlotte’s lips. “The jury is still out if Rocky’s a good influence on Ashton.”

“Will turned out pretty good,” I remind her.

“Will turned out good because he went against everything Rocky taught him. I don’t know where Will would’ve ended up if it weren’t for Nikki. Probably managing some strip joint in a seedy part of Manhattan.”

I’m damn proud of Will, especially since he dealt with me during those years he and Amelia were apart. In hindsight, I should have stayed out of their relationship. I’m guilty of making his life hell and being the reason why he was miserable for four years. He’s proven to be the man for my daughter. In the end, that’s all that matters now.

“You’re right. Will goes against everything Rocky says, and he’s a billionaire in his own right.”

“Ashton is our grandson just as much as all the other children. Ultimately, it is Will and Amelia’s responsibility to help him navigate through this. We are his grandparents, and I want to be there for them if they need us. It’s new territory for us too.”

“I know,” I agree softly. “I just never expected to be this involved with grandkids. I guess, I felt for the longest time, we raised our kids. Our job was done.”

Charlotte pats my hand. “Speaking of raising children, I guess you forgot about one daughter who hasn’t come back home yet. It’s past her curfew.”

All of a sudden, I remember Alexa. The occurrence with Ashton distracted me from the ongoing issue of my youngest daughter. I glance at the time. It’s past ten on a school night. There is no text message from her to tell us she’s running late or even just a courtesy text to tell us she’s still alive wherever she is.

I take a deep breath trying to control my anger. No matter what I do with this kid, she refuses to fucking listen. Given her older sisters have moved out, she thinks she has the freedom to do whatever she pleases, and act like them. Yet, Alexa is forgetting she lives under our roof, and as far as I’m concerned, our rules.

“Charlotte,” I voice in a stern tone. “I’m done with Alexa and this behavior. If it comes down to us taking her things off her, phone or car, I’m willing to do that. I’m serious. She’s not a responsible adult yet. Alexa’s in her senior year. She hasn’t even applied for colleges.”

“Lex, we’ve gone over this. College is Alexa’s decision.”

My blood begins to boil, my temper bubbling beneath the surface, ready to argue again over this broken record of an issue. “This isn’t just Alexa’s decision. She must attend college, and we have yet to have this proper discussion with her. Time is running out. If she expects me to pull strings to get her into a college, she will be incredibly disappointed. She will attend college just like her sisters.”

“You have to stop comparing her to Millie, Ava, and Addy. They’re different. Millie always wanted to go to law school and worked hard to make sure she got into Yale.

As for Ava, yeah, sure, she was a bit of a struggle. She wanted to go to college for the social aspect and parties, but regardless, she went and still graduated in business school.” Charlotte takes a deep breath, knowing this is a very touchy subject with me. “Addy is much like Amelia, very academic. She sets goals and does everything in her power to achieve them.”

All of what Charlotte is saying is true. Each one of our daughters has successfully navigated their way to adulthood. Yet if the truth is told, my faith in Alexa following their footsteps is disappearing by the minute. She’s not afraid of Charlotte or me—disregarding our rules with no care for consequences. Of late, if the older girls join us for a family dinner, Alexa makes it out like she’s held against her will, and spending time with us is a chore, not a privilege.

“We need to be easy on Alexa, okay? It’s hard to be following the footsteps of three sisters who are very successful in their own right. So, perhaps when you are calmer and not angry that it’s past her curfew, we can have a discussion about the future.”

I cross my arms beneath my chest. “You expect me to sit here and do nothing?”

Charlotte leans over and grabs her phone from the nightstand. “I will text her and make sure she gets home within the next hour. Tomorrow, I will deal with her. As for you, please just give yourself a moment to remember Alexa is only eighteen.”

“Exactly, Charlotte. She’s only eighteen. She lives under our roof, under our rules. Do you remember what you were doing at eighteen?”

Beside me, Charlotte tilts her head with annoyance. “Sure, I was sleeping with my best friend’s married older brother.”

“Why are you getting annoyed with me? I’m pointing out the facts.”

“I’m not arguing about this anymore, Lex. Tonight’s been a little bit more than what we bargained for. You’ve got your presentation to focus on for tomorrow. I’m going to take the kids out for playtime in the park, then head over to Adriana’s.” Charlotte yawns, then continues, “I’ll make sure Alexa is here for dinner tomorrow night. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you’re my bossy wife who probably needs to get laid.”

“And it sounds like you’re my controlling husband who has forgotten that we have a house full of grandkids.”

“Are you saying we’re supposed to be celibate for five days? I never signed up for this when I agreed for all of them to stay over,” I remind her.

“I’m saying you’re going to be exhausted, and sex will be the very last thing on your mind.”

The thought of not touching Charlotte for five days is making me hard. Fuck, perhaps I’ll wake her up at night once we know all the kids are fast asleep.

“Charlotte, baby, when it comes to you, sex is always the first thing on my mind.”

Charlotte punches my arm with a soft laugh. “That’s so romantic of you. Now go to sleep. I love you.”

I let out a low-rumbling growl realizing tonight is not the night, especially since Alexa’s absence weighs heavily on my mind.

“I’m going to head downstairs and wait for Alexa.” I throw the sheets off me, grabbing my navy robe hanging near the bed.

“Fine,” Charlotte groans. “I’ll take my clothes off if that’s what it’s going to take for you to stay in bed.”

I contemplate the offer, but my head is filled with anger and concern over our daughter’s well-being.

“Go to sleep. I won’t be long.” I lean over and kiss Charlotte on the cheek.

Quietly, I head downstairs to wait for Alexa, careful not to wake any of the grandkids. According to Ava, River is a light sleeper. Since she’s still an infant, the last thing I need is for a screaming baby to wake up, which in turn, can wake everyone.

The back door opens as soon as I turn the kitchen light on.

Alexa walks in, surprised to see me. My eyes are drawn to the short yellow dress she is wearing. Too short and too tight for a young girl. The anger inside me begins to swirl, forcing me to clench my fists to control myself. The girls all followed the dress code when they were growing up, though there were times Ava pushed to see how far she could get away with it.

“Oh,” is all she says, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Oh?” I repeat in a cold tone. “Is that the only response I’ll get from you, considering it’s two hours past your curfew, and it’s a school night?”

Alexa continues to ignore me, flicking her long chestnut brown hair over her shoulder as if I’m overreacting. Beneath her chest, she crosses her arms impatiently, waiting for me to call defeat and send her to her room.

“Anything you’d like to say, Alexandra?”

This time, she rolls her eyes with a puff of air leaving her lips.

“Let me guess. You’re calling me Alexandra, so I’m in big trouble? Assuming I’m grounded, you’ll take all my privileges from me because you are the controlling Lex Edwards.”

The heat inside my body rises to boiling point. How dare she disrespect me like she’s done nothing wrong. Charlotte’s voice plays in my head, but as far as I’m concerned, no matter what I say or do, Alexa will go against me regardless.

“You’re damn right you’re grounded,” I shout, slamming my fist on the counter. “How dare you worry your mother and me over your careless actions. You live in this house. You abide by our rules.”

“I’m over your rules!” she yells back, eyes blazing with fire. “I didn’t ask to be Lex Edwards’ daughter. This life was thrust upon me.”

“This life?” I tilt my head in confusion. “A life of having a roof over your head, food on the table, private schooling? I’m sorry. Please explain how awful it is for you to have what many children have to fight for.”

“You have no idea.” She lowers her head.

“No idea how spoiled you are? You have everything you want. Please, enlighten me. How terrible it is to grow up as our daughter?”

Slowly, her emerald eyes, the same shade as mine, lift to meet mine. There’s something unexplainable in the weight of her stare, and for just a moment, I want to reassure her we love her despite this argument.

But my compassion is short-lived.

“I hate you.”

And with her final words said, she storms out of the room, leaving me reeling. Never, in my time as a parent, have any of my girls ever used such strong language, even at the peak of our arguments.

Yet, the word hate is raw and soul-destroying, especially when your youngest daughter uses it so coldly.

It doesn’t take long for Charlotte to come downstairs. Alexa’s stomping up the stairs would have been enough to wake Charlotte if she was sleeping.

The moment she walks into the kitchen, she crosses her arms with a judgmental expression, one I’ve seen many times.

“Lex, I told you we needed to deal with this in a different way. All you’re doing is pushing her away. The more you push, the less control you have over her.”

My lips pinch together, barely able to keep them shut in order not to lash out at Charlotte for Alexa’s behavior. I chose to keep the conversation to myself because if Charlotte knew what Alexa said, it would upset her immensely.

When it came to business, I controlled everything.

But with Alexa, I’ve lost control. Charlotte is right, I’ve pushed, and Alexa is running as far away from me as possible.

Just as I’m about to tell Charlotte precisely what we’re going to do with Alexa, a message appears on my screen. I half glance over, but then my eyes focus, slowly reading each word with a tightness forming in my chest.

My body freezes as I continue to read the message over and over again.

“Lex,” Charlotte calls softly. “You’ve turned white. What’s wrong?”

A coldness expands in my core, leaving me numb and without the ability to answer Charlotte. Then, I clear my throat, still staring at the text in disbelief.

“He’s dead.”