Carson’s nervous. Poor guy is practically sick with tension. But he seriously doesn’t have anything to worry about.
Yes, the last few months have been harrowing.
I’m exhausted, and I can only imagine how he must be feeling.
I will never forget the day his mom called to tell us that his father was dying of cancer. He’d been sick for months and hadn’t told anyone. When Griffin first got released from jail, Carson had quietly hoped he might reach out to reconnect, but that was years ago, and he quickly gave up hope… until that call.
It was too little, too late, but Carson and I still went to see his dad.
He was pale and a shell of the man Carson once adored.
I stood on the edge of the room, fighting tears and cradling my pregnant belly as Carson sat rigid by his father’s bedside.
We didn’t bring the girls to meet their estranged grandfather. They’re only four, and we didn’t want to expose them to that. I’m so grateful we made that decision.
The poor man was practically gray. An emaciated human being who could barely speak. He did manage to rasp out a few meaningful sentiments—soft apologies and shaky words of love.Carson tried to stand strong, but his body eventually buckled, and as his father’s eyes drifted shut, he sniffed and trembled, silent tears trailing down his cheeks as he curled his fingers around the old man’s hand.
He wasn’t that old.
But he looked ancient in that bed.
I moved forward to comfort my husband, and we stayed by his father’s bedside until a nurse came through for his next round of medication.
He died two days later.
That was a month ago.
We’ve had the funeral, and now we’re just wrapping up the last of the loose ends at the lawyer’s office. The reading of the will got delayed for various reasons, but we’re finally here.
I limp into the room, leaning heavily on my cane. I really hate this thing, but I’m seven months pregnant now, and this baby is putting my body through the works. I thought the twins were bad enough, but they were tiny compared to this lump of a boy inside me.
My hips are taking the brunt of it, and the pain between my legs is constant. Add my once-crushed leg into the equation and I just can’t get away without my stupid cane.
“Please, take a seat.” The lawyer rushes around his desk, angling the chair for me so I can easily fall into it.
Carson steadies my arm, checking on me with a concerned look.
I nod, smiling at him and taking his hand. This moment isn’t about me. It’s about him and his mother.
Bree takes a seat on the other side of Carson, resting her hand on his shoulder and smiling at the lawyer.
“How are you, Kevin?”
“Yes, good, thank you, Breanna.”
“I’m glad we could finally find a time when we were all available for this reading. I know it’s been delayed too many times. I apologize for that.” Her smile is wide and calm. She’s always been stunningly beautiful, and part of her prettiness comes from the way her personality shines through. She’s sunshine… even in these cloudy times.
I adore her and am so grateful she’s here right now.
“It’s no problem.” The man smiles back at her.
“Can we get on with it?” Carson mutters. “We’ve got places to be this afternoon.”
“Oh, yes, of course.” The lawyer shuffles some files around before flipping open the one that holds the ever-important last will and testament of Griffin McAvoy.
Carson isn’t expecting much.
In fact, he resisted coming to this meeting for three full weeks, until I put my foot down and told him he had to.
