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My heart aches that he knows such loss at his age, and I wish I could promise him that it will never happen. But the truth is none of us can promise that, no matter how much we want to.
“I look after myself so I can be as healthy as possible.”
“If you died, would Linc look after me or Aunt Heather?”
Heather had asked if it was okay for Eric to call her Aunt Heather and I’d agreed. I want to keep Eric protected from future events but denying them both that connection is cruel, and I won’t do it. “I don’t know.”
I should figure this stuff out. I’m already failing as his guardian. God knows I haven’t been much up ’till now and I vow to do better. “I’ll figure it out if it makes you feel better, though. Have a plan in place just in case.”
“Yeah, it would.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.”
I have no idea what I’ll plan but I’ll figure it out, although my first plan is not to die until I’m old and gray.
As the car pulls up around the corner from the school, Eric and I jump out so I can walk him the last little bit. Pulling up to school in a limo isn’t a good look with his friends so we walk together and I kind of like this part of my day. It feels normal and helps me center myself for the day to come.
“Can you remind Linc what time the game is later?”
“I don’t think Linc will be able to come, Eric.”
“He is. He promised.”
I frown, confusion making me stop and face him on the sidewalk. “When did you speak to Lincoln?” As far as I knew he hadn’t been home when Eric was awake.
“Last night. We face-timed.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, he said he’d be here.”
I see his little lip wobble as doubt and disappointment crash into him. “He’s a very busy man, Eric.”
“I know but he said we’re family now, and he wouldn’t miss it.”
I crouch and smooth his hair from his face. “Well, then I’m sure he will be.”
His face splits into a wide grin. “You think?”
“Of course.”
And he’ll be there because I’ll damn well make sure he is.
After seeing Eric into school, I ask Boris to take me to Lincoln’s office building. We park outside the intimidating glass high rise with the Kennedy name on it and I feel a shiver of apprehension like I don’t belong here. I walk inside with my head held high, trying to fake it like I did when I was young, imagining I’m a queen and not the peasant girl who cleans for the rich family. My heels click on the marble floor and I hide my shaking hands under my huge designer bag which Gaspard insisted went with everything. I’m wearing sleek black pants, a cream blouse, with black lace at the V-neckline, and nude stiletto pumps. My coat is a warm neutral cream with a hint of pink. I look good, chic, and classy even if I do say so myself, and yet I feel out of place, like an imposter. Perhaps it was because I know I don’t belong. I never really have.
“I’m here to see Mr. Coldwell.”
My voice, even to my own ears, sounds shrill and nervous as if I’m about to be thrown out on my ear at any second. The woman with dark hair in a stylish chignon and white blouse smiles. She’s beautifully put together in a natural way, making her look like she’s born for this life.
“Of course, Mrs. Coldwell. Here’s a card for the lift. Go right to the top and Melissa will show you from there.”
I was stunned that she could possibly know who I was and couldn’t help the question that sprung from my mouth. “You know who I am?”
“Of course. Mr. Coldwell sent an email to all personnel informing us of his marriage and making security aware you were to be allowed in whenever you wish.”
“Oh. Well, okay.”
Could I sound like any more of an idiot right now? I take the card and, as I walk toward the lift, a smile spreads across my face. The same thing happens when I reach the top floor. Melissa, Linc’s PA, is waiting to take me to his office with a huge smile on her face.
