Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 123(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 82(@300wpm)
“It’s safer than it looks,” she began, “Plus, we live close to the school where I teach, and there’s a daycare nearby.”
“DAYCARE!” I roared. No child of mine was going into public daycare. Georgie was getting his own nanny, stat.
“Yes, daycare,” she said softly. “I need to work and Georgie needs to be looked after. The daycare center is perfectly fine. I made sure they had all their licenses and insurance.”
I respected her for saying that. Only a responsible mother would think to check boring details like licensing and insurance. But that didn’t change my mind. Wildflower and Georgie were coming to live with me.
She came out of the house with two bags and Georgie’s car seat.
“Where’s the rest of your stuff?” I asked.
“This is it,” she said simply. “All the furniture is rented and Georgie just sleeps with me in the bed. He doesn’t have a crib.”
My Wildflower was so poor that she couldn’t afford a crib? I packed her into the car and began driving back in a rage. I was so angry that I couldn’t even look at her, much less speak.
But there was a question that continually lingered in my mind. It had been driving me insane the past two years, and I’d lain awake nights, wondering and ruminating, completely baffled at the turn of events.
“Why did you leave me two years ago?” I asked abruptly. “What happened that was so bad? Why no note, no phone call, no nothing?”
She sighed, looking down at her hands. “Oh Liam, you’ll never understand,” she said softly.
“Try me,” I ground out. “We were so happy Wildflower, why did you take off without saying anything? Was it something I did?”
“Oh no!” she turned to me, tears in her eyes. “Not at all.” She paused momentarily and then turned to me, begging for understanding. “Liam,” she said softly. “Do you remember when we got that invitation from your mom in the mail?”
“Sure,” I said. “The one for my sister’s wedding right? What, were you afraid that I’d be ashamed to bring you as my guest because you’re poor?” I asked in disbelief. If she thought that, then I had seriously misjudged the woman because the opposite had been true. I had been looking forward to introducing Alison to my family, thinking the beautiful Cape Cod setting to be a perfect time to meet my mom and stepdad.
She nodded sadly. “I was so excited to attend the wedding as your girlfriend,” she said softly. “But then I saw the name on the invitation and knew we couldn’t be together,” she continued.
“What?” I asked, totally dumbfounded. My sister’s name was Lauren Woodson, a totally normal, boring name. Who cared?
She nodded again. “I saw that the invitation came from Mr. and Mrs. Robert Woodson, your parents.” She hesitated. “Liam,” she continued. “My biological father is Robert Woodson. You’re my stepbrother,” she finished.
I sat in stunned silence. My mom had married Robert when I was a kid, and he was as much of a father to me as any man could be. He’d been kind and affectionate, generous and caring. Was this the bastard who had left Alison’s mom after finding out she was pregnant?
As if reading my mind, Alison nodded. “I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to believe it. But I had Robert’s genealogy tracked, and there’s no doubt. You’re my stepbrother,” she said softly.
I was incensed. I had made love to my own sister two years ago and unknowingly impregnated her? This was so fucked up that I needed to think. Slamming the Range Rover to a halt, I unbuckled my seatbelt and threw myself out of the car, intent on walking anywhere, away from this mess.
“Wait Liam!” she cried, chasing after me. She was breathless from running and I could hear Georgie wailing in the car. My son with this woman was also … my nephew? The familial connections were so tangled that I felt dizzy and weak.
But the baby’s cries brought me back to reality. No matter what anyone said or anyone did, I owed it to my son to do right. With slow steps, I walked back to the car and got in, shepherding my new family to safety.
9
Liam
My head reeled with the enormity of the situation. Evidently, Wildflower’s biological dad was my stepfather Robert Woodson … making her my stepsister. Meanwhile, my son was what exactly? My son but also my nephew? The enormity of the situation drove me crazy and I shook my head with frustration, enraged and furious.
I pulled the Range Rover into the garage and unbuckled Georgie. My son was gurgling happily, stuffing a tiny fist into his mouth. He looked at me and I felt my heart turn over. No matter what happened, I was going to be a father to my boy, come hell or high water.