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“No, she wanted Ivy to have the choices she never got until she reached adulthood, like what to wear and who her friends were. And she wanted her to grow up free of superficial judgment.”
His mother made a dismissive sound. “Choices come with maturity. She wasn’t ready to make them until she reached adulthood. And look at how Ivy dressed the day you picked me up. She’s not capable of making those choices, either. She looked like you’d picked her up from a homeless shelter. And that you let her out of the house wearing that makes me think you’re not ready to make choices for her.”
“Maybe not,” Bastien conceded, “but at least I know being a parent comes down to more than how to dress a child. I’m going to make sure Ivy has all the opportunities and chances that Chloe didn’t get as well as all the love she deserves. That’s why I’m here.”
“Who will talk to her about girl things like boys and menstrual cycles? She needs a mother figure. You can’t even keep a girlfriend. Who is going to be there for Ivy? Who can understand what it means to be a girl, a woman? You’re a wheeler and dealer. She’s a child who lost her mother. No court is going to give you custody of a vulnerable child when there is a stable and reliable set of grandparents who are clearly superior guardians. That’s just a fact.”
He was now in way over his head, but he wasn’t a quitter, and he certainly would not allow his mother to steal the dignity of his niece the way she had stolen and squandered both his and his sister’s. Without thinking of the consequences, he blurted out, “Well, it’s a good thing that I’m getting married then.” He didn’t know why he told a lie. It just bolted from his mouth before he could engage his mind.
Bastien’s words hung in the air, shocking his mother into silence. Hell, they shocked him too.
After a long pause, she said, “You’re getting married soon?”
“Yes. I’m sure that my fiancée would be happy to help Ivy with any girl issues. And any judge will see that a loving and devoted couple will be best suited to provide Ivy with the home she deserves.” He was doubling down. Loving and devoted couple? He didn’t even believe that existed, but he was going to make it look real, at least for Ivy’s sake.
“Why haven’t I heard of this before today?”
“Because we don’t talk. It seems to be a universal theme with your children.”
“Don’t be cruel. When will I meet this mystery woman?”
He knew if he didn’t get off the phone now, his mother would grill him for more information—information he didn’t have.
“We’ll see you in court.”
He ended the call and gulped his wine. The reality of the conversation was setting in. And the reality of what he’d be up against in court. How was he supposed to find a wife before their first court appointment? He looked at the documents in front of him and saw the date. He had exactly thirty days.
The reality of the situation and the emotion of the confrontation with his mother forced the sting of loss to pierce his being, opening the floodgates of Bastien’s grief for the first time. His head fell into his hands as he heaved tears like gutters unable to contain the cloudburst of a storm. His body quivered as his heartache and all the losses that came before, including the death of his little sister, fell from his eyes, and he cried out in pain as never before. Time seemed to stand still. The catharsis slowly ebbed, bringing with it the seeping realization that Bastien was alone in a place that didn’t even feel like home.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Charlotte waited by her car for Ivy to come out dressed and ready for school. When she didn’t show up, Charlotte got nervous, walked next door, and knocked. No one answered, so she pounded on the door a little harder. She waited a few seconds and tried the door, but it was locked. Panic swept over Charlotte like an icy wave from the shore.
A thousand scenarios went through her head from kidnapping to carbon monoxide poisoning. She was dialing 911 when the door handle rattled, and Rachel appeared in the doorway looking frayed and disheveled.
She stood motionless and blank. “What time is it?”
“It’s after eight. Where’s Ivy?”
Rachel stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language. “She must be asleep.”
Charlotte marched into the house and past Rachel. “Where’s her room?”
Rachel scrubbed her face with her palms and pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes. “It’s the second door on the right. We had a late night.”
“Late night? She’s five. How late could her night have been?”
Rachel knotted her hands together. “I was filling out college applications, and I lost track of time. We got to sleep around two or so.”
“Two o’clock in the morning?” Charlotte moved down the hallway toward Ivy’s room. “I thought you were a trained nanny?”
“Well, I am, but I made a mistake.”
“I’d say.” Charlotte got to the closed door and eased it open. She peered into the room decorated perfectly for a five-year-old with unicorns and princesses, and swirls of vibrant colors adorning the walls on one side, and posters of pioneering women from Amelia Earhart to Maya Angelou on the other. Charlotte thought the eccentric mix of fantasy and ingenuity was a fitting combination for Ivy, who had such a natural curiosity and zeal for learning. Ivy lay slumbering peacefully in the middle of her bed surrounded by stuffed animals. Her hair swirled around her head as if she’d just stepped off a wild ride on one of the unicorns.
The sight brought a smile to Charlotte, and then she remembered why she was there. It was now half past eight and Ivy was late for school. She turned to Rachel and whispered, “I can’t believe you allowed her to stay up so late on a school night. That was totally irresponsible!”
Rachel hung her head as she followed Charlotte into the room. “I know. I’m so sorry. There’s been so much going on the past few months. I just got lost in what I was doing. Just please don’t tell Bastien about this. Ivy was happy reading. Time just got away.”
