AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No, you’re not. So stop pretending. Stop lying to me. Just say what you want. How can I even consider it if you don’t tell me?”
Jon raises his glass and adds, “I want in on that.”
His mother glances at him, but not with admonishment. It’s weird. It’s like she’s actually considering my request.
“The one thing you’ve always wanted is staring you in the face, Connie, Dearest. The way I see it, you have two choices. One, take a chainsaw to it like you usually do. Or, risk the heartbreak and hope it was worth it in the end.” Mr. Ferro lifts his glass to her, takes a sip, and places it down on the pristine white linen tablecloth.
“I’m not a dreamer anymore.”
“Neither am I. But reality caught up to you, and for some reason, you’re the lucky bastard who has a daughter in law who loves you and would live in a tower just to be near you. Am I right?” The last part is directed at me.
“Since when do you know so much?”
He grins. “I know a lot. I never talk. What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time? Constance may be running the war room, but I’m the backup plan. I’ve got her covered. You’re all dually safe. So there’s no reason to be defensive. Avery, do you take this woman, of blood, guts, and raw hostility to be your mother in law? Constance, do you agree to take Avery into your confidence and maintain her trust from this day forward, so help you God?”
Sean suppresses a smile by covering his mouth with the back of his hand before plucking a croissant from a basket.
Soft smiles glow around the edge of the table, waiting for one of us to respond. Mr. Ferro said it in a way that it could be taken seriously or tossed aside as mocking. It wasn’t a joke to me, though. So I decide to spit out the words. It’s better this way. Allies instead of enemies. The way it should be from here out.
At the same time, we both say, “I do.”
Shock spreads across Constance’s face like spilled paint. Her mouth opens into a small O before tears well up in her eyes. “You forgive me?”
I shrug. “There’s nothing to forgive.”
Constance smiles softly. My mother bumps my shoulder and frowns. “Stop shrugging. Be committed with your words and actions. A shrug is neither of those things.”
Sean stifles a laugh. The admonishment sounds like an echo from a long time ago.
I repeat myself, without the childish gesture. “There is nothing to forgive. I admit, I love this too—everyone here. Together. Not fighting.” I smirk and look around. “It’s nice.”
“So, the names?” Jon prompts. “The fake reason we’ve all gathered together today. If you don’t name them I will. I was thinking we shouldn’t overcomplicate it. Name them Baby 1 and Baby 2.”
Cassie elbows him. “Jon!”
Sean calls me to his seat as chatter breaks out up and down the table. There’s no threat. Just someone who loves us and didn’t want us to leave. Someone too afraid to admit it. Too afraid to face the rejection. That’s a much better outcome than another psycho to deal with. Happiness fills me as I take my seat at the head of the table and fill my plate with food.
Conversations erupt in bursts of happiness. Some of them carry down the table. Like compliments on my new tower, and allowing myself to be kidnapped by a witch. Once upon a time, Bryan would have laughed at that, but not now. He’s not said much. I glance at my iWatch. There’s a text from the babysitter. She’s asking if the children can come down now. I flick YES and go back to eating, and listening to the sounds of merriment.
Sean leans in toward me. “You’re going to make a grown man cry.”
“I hope he smiles. If he cries, I really screwed this up.” We both smile and resume our conversations until Bryan speaks up finally.
“I hate to rush you, but I’m flying out tonight. I need to take care of something. Avery, Sean—I’d love to hear the names you selected.” Bryan takes his napkin off his lap and places it on the table. He has the Ferro plane gassing up at Teterboro to go see Hallie. I’ve caught bits of conversations about the pilots and weather.
Sean replies, “Of course. Avery, why don’t you do the honors?” Sean is the worst staller ever.
I give him a look that says so, before turning to everyone. “Of course. And Bryan, I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you again. To know the truth. The nanny is bringing the babies downstairs so they can be properly announced and then you can run off.”
He nods, appreciatively, before refilling his coffee cup and lifting it to his lips. Just as he takes a pull of the dark liquid, the doors open. A woman stands between them with a child at her skirt, a little boy who isn’t taller than her hip. She carries one of my babies cradled, one in pink and one in blue, in each arm. Bryan is still drinking as I get up and walk over to her. Sean is in my wake. We relieve her of the babies and step aside. Bryan’s gaze lifts from the floor to the simple cotton skirt with a floral print, to the crisp white blouse, up her slender neck, and to her face.
Hallie stands there eyes wide and reaches for the hand of her child, seeing Bryan before he sees her. “No. It can’t be.” Her voice is a soft whisper of shock.
Bryan drops his cup, spilling black coffee across the white linen table, before it bounces to the floor and shatters. He jerks out of his chair so fast that it tumbles backward. Bryan glances at me and then back at Hallie. Recognizing that I brought her here as soon as I found out. But I couldn’t tell her. I didn’t believe he was alive and I actually saw him.
Bryan rushes to her. The little boy, no more than a few years old, rushes behind his mother. Bryan slows, realizing how much time has passed. That this child is someone else’s. That she moved on her with her life. It is all
he feared. Hallie just stands there in front of him, shaking. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
“Is it really you?” The words are raw, ripped straight from her heart.
“Yes.”
“How? You were dead. I held you as you died. You—” a sob stops her questions and a hand flies to her mouth.
The child pulls on her skirt. “Mama.” He lifts his chubby hands, wanting to be picked up, wanting to hold her and stop her tears. Hallie lifts him and holds his head to her chest.
“He’s beautiful, Hallie. He looks just like you.”
She shakes her head. “A little, but he really looks more like his father. Those emerald eyes and that laugh. He’s never met you, Bryan, but somehow he has your laugh.”
“He’s mine?” Bryan’s voice catches in his throat. For a second, I think he’s going to cry.
Hallie nods. “I didn’t know until after everything happened.” She glances at Constance. “Is this why he wasn’t in the crypt?”
Constance shrugs. My mother giggles at the gesture. The two of them have gotten very close. They’re both smiling. “The crypt is for the dead. I did what I could. Bryan did the rest.”
“Your mother knew?” Hallie asks, looking at the table full of people.
Bryan shakes his head. “Not until this morning on the lawn.”
Lizzie laughs harshly. “I thought I saw a ghost.”
“She swallowed a handful of pills and walked right past me.” Bryan explains the rest of the story, how Constance was already put through the wringer this morning over concealing the fate of her sisters’ boy from everyone.
Hallie looks at Constance with a mixture of cruelty and relief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were in danger until the Campogne family was dealt with. You did not want to come face to face with Avery’s brother. Hate me forever if you must, but I did right by both of you.”
