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Dania patted Walter’s arm. “I’m glad you have it. Let’s leave all the ugliness behind us.”
Walter’s brows puckered together. He placed his hand on top of hers. “Sounds like a great idea.” He motioned for them to follow him.
Dania shifted her focus to her son. Her stomach churned. Would Jacob want anything to do with her? Would he be afraid? A fluttery feeling came to her stomach. Hoping to get her nerves calmed down, she ignored them the best she could.
The hall fed into a room with a vaulted ceiling. A huge fireplace with a portrait of Matthew and his parents hung above the mantel. Dania hadn’t seen an image of him for such a long time. He must have been twentyish and had his noble smile even then.
Carol stood at the side of the fireplace, dressed in a flawless pantsuit, her hair coiffed in the usual bun, holding Jacob’s hand in hers.
Dania stopped. Her knees grew weak. There stood her little boy. He, too, had the same noble smile as his father but a smaller version. A gentler version. He stepped behind Carol, peeking around her legs.
“Honey.” Carol squatted eye level with him. “This is your biological mother, Dania. She’s wanted to meet you for a very long time.”
He peered up at Dania. His diminutive forehead furrowed. His cheeks, still baby cheeks, blushed pink. He bit at his bottom lip like she did when she was nervous.
Walter intervened. “Why don’t we sit down?” He motioned to the couch and armchairs beside them.
Carol took Jacob to the couch and nodded to Dania to sit next to them.
She hesitated only a moment, long enough to see that Jacob was all right with her being so close. He seemed to be but snuggled up to Carol’s side. Dania cautiously sat. Brett took the space on her left.
“Can I get anyone something to drink before dinner?” Walter went to the cart that served as a mini bar.
“Only sparkling water for me.” Brett turned to Dania.
“That works for me too.”
“Sounds good. I’ll have the same.” Carol looked down at her grandson. “Does water sound good to you, Jacob?”
He nodded, then he looked at Dania, studying her.
She wanted to take him in her arms and put him on her lap but held back. She had to take this slow and steady. So instead, she asked, “Did you go to school today?”
He nodded, then hid his face in Carol’s arm.
Walter came over carrying a tray of four fluted glasses of water and a small juice glass for Jacob. “You should show your mother the picture you colored.” He handed each of them a glass and ended with Jacob, who looked up at his grandpa with clear admiration. “Go on. Go get it,” Walter said.
Jacob scooted off the couch and tugged on Carol’s hand as if wanting her to come with him. She set their glasses on coasters on the table next to the sofa and got up. “Excuse us. We’ll be right back.” The two left the room.
Walter settled in the armchair next to the couch. “You should know, Dania, he’s a most exceptional child. Started walking before he turned one and could speak in full sentences by two. He’s an amazing little boy. Reminds me so much of Matthew.”
She didn’t know what to say. Her heart ached that she hadn’t seen Jacob take his first steps or say his first words. She could easily slip into resentment, but instead, she chose to be grateful. “I’m so glad he had you and Carol. Thank you.”
“The pleasure was all ours. I just wish... well, I wish Matthew could have been here.” Walter glanced up at the picture above the mantel. He’d said what everyone was thinking.
A maid came into the room. “Dinner is served.”
“Thank you, Mildred. We’ll be right there.” Walter stood.
Brett and Dania did too.
“Should we wait until Carol and Jacob return?” Dania asked.
“They’ll find us.” Walter led the way to the formal dining room with white wainscotting, beautiful oil paintings of Montana’s landscapes, and a Chippendale dining table and chairs for eight people in the center, though it was set for only five.
Before they could take their seats, Carol and Jacob returned. Jacob went to Dania and handed her the picture he’d colored. It was a dog that looked like Brett’s retriever.
Dania squatted down and admired her child’s work. He’d amazingly stayed in the lines, for the most part. “This is beautiful. Do you like dogs?”
