by Messer Stone
“There you are!” She glares at him. “Don’t you know how to answer a phone? Mom and I have been going crazy.”
“Well I’ve been a little busy!”
“Oh, shut up.” She shoves past him and makes a beeline for the couch. I sit up a bit, trying in vain to smooth down my hair. I haven’t showered yet today and I’m wearing a baggy turtleneck in order to cover up my almost faded bruises.
“How are you doing, baby doll?” she asks, sitting down beside me.
“I’m good. Sore, but good.”
“Well for the record, I think you’re a total badass—”
“Lor!” Parker barks, gesturing wordlessly at the kids. Sophie is just watching her curiously while Jason is full on gaping at her, eyes bugged out and jaw on the floor, his video game long forgotten.
“Oh, right. My bad.” She bounces off the couch and walks over to Sophie. “Well hello there, sweetness.”
I smile as I watch them interact. Within seconds, Lorelai is utterly besotted. But that’s normally how it goes with my younger sister. She’s hard to resist.
“Are you a princess?” Sophie asks, gravely serious. “You look like a princess. You’re so pretty!”
And just like that, a love affair is born. Lorelai and Sophie walk out hand in hand, Jason following like a puppy at their heels.
“Come on!” She calls back as they head down the hall. “We’ve got dinner waiting.”
Parker’s face goes completely pale. “We?”
He helps me up and walks beside me as I hobble my way down the hall. In the living room, Lorelai is introducing Sophie to Pamela and my heart starts to race, as I realize that I’m about to officially meet Parker’s mother for the first time.
Geez. Of all the days to not take a shower!
She looks basically like an older version of Lorelai. A beautifully striking face, blonde hair, hazel eyes. Like her daughter, she’s also wearing jeans and a sweater, while still looking classy and glamorous enough to walk a red carpet.
“And you must be Mercy.” Pamela beams at me, embracing me gently. She’s only a few inches taller than me, but she’s got an athletic body, toned with muscle. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
For a second, I want to cry because the question is laced with the warmth of a motherly concern that heals as much as it hurts. But I manage to pull myself together and offer a bright smile.
“Much better.”
She kisses my cheek and we break apart. “Good.” She looks to Parker. “You don’t mind if we join you for dinner do you?”
“Do I have a choice?” He teases at first, before bending to kiss his mother’s head. “Of course I don’t mind. I’ll make sure the table is set for six.”
Pamela and Lorelai exchange a look. After a tense silence, Lorelai finally speaks. “Might want to make that seven.”
Parker’s expression hardens to stone. “Why?”
From the shadows, a third guest emerges. “Hello, son.”
Silas Callahan looks very different from the last time I saw him. When he came to my house, he wore a three-piece suit, looking righteous and powerful as he stood in my humble home. Now he’s wearing jeans and a Columbia sweat-shirt, looking almost contrite.
Parker’s body is rigid as he moves to stand in front of me. “Get out. Now.”
“C’mon kids let’s go wash up for dinner,” Lorelai says, ushering them out of the room with Pamela on her heels.
“Just give me five minutes,” Silas pleads. “Five minutes and if you still want me to go, I will.”
Parker thinks for a tense moment. “Okay. Let’s go into my office.”
“Actually.” He looks around Parker, addressing me directly. “I was hoping I could speak with you.”
“No.” Parker pushes me further behind him. “Absolutely not.”
“Hey,” I say, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
He looks down at me, stunned. “Are you kidding?”
I shake my head. “Let him have five minutes.”
“No.”
I groan internally, not feeling up for a fight. “He’s your father, Parker.”
I mean it’s not like we can avoid the man forever. Eventually, Parker concedes.
“Fine.” He steps to the side so that he’s no longer obscuring me from Silas’s view. “Talk.”
Silas offers a wry smile. “Can’t we have just a little space?”
We end up on the roof patio. I’m wrapped in Parker’s thickest coat, standing with Silas on the balcony. Parker is sitting at a table on the other side of the patio, scowling as he watches us.
“You know, I’ll never forget the first time I saw this city,” Silas remarks, gazing out at the skyline. “I was just a kid. Dirt poor. Fresh off the boat from a sheep farm in Ireland. I was sure I’d been dropped onto another planet. It didn’t seem possible that a place like this could exist in the world as I knew it.”
“It must have been hard for you growing up,” I say, mostly because I can’t think of anything else.
He grunts in response, and we pass a long, tense minute in silence.
“I want you to know….” He trails off, rolling his shoulders. “I’ve done a lot of shady things in my life. From the time I was thirteen I knew I wanted to make something of myself and I did whatever it took to make that happen. I’ve done so many horrible things, and I’ve never regretted them.”
I watch him, speechless. The bustling noise of the city below may as well be a million miles away.
“There are few things I’m ashamed of.” He pauses, swallows hard. “But I’m ashamed of what I did to you. Of the dangers I exposed you to by forcing you to cut yourself off from Parker.”
That’s the absolute last thing I expected him to say, and I honestly don’t know how to react.
“I know you don’t have kids,” he begins cautiously. “But in a way, you do know what it’s like to be a parent. Tell me, is there anything you wouldn’t do for those kids? For Jason and Sophie? Anything at all?”
“No,” I say without thinking.
“People say I’m a heartless monster and maybe I am.” He shrugs. “God knows you can’t get as far as I have with a conscience weighing you down. But I love my kids. I swear to God I do.”
I offer him a small smile. “I can see that.”
I watch as he struggles, clearly uncomfortable. “I remember every single time I’ve seen my son cry. Not counting when he was a baby, of course. And not including temper tantrums. I’m talking real cries. You know, the ones that hurt. The ones that leave a mark.”
He grips the railing, avoiding my eye. “The year he turned ten, he cried twice. First when he broke his arm, and the second after he found his mother overdosed on sleeping pills. When he was seventeen, he cried after we put our dog Thunder down. And when he was twenty-one, he cried because a girl he was devoted to loved his money more than she did him.”
All I can do is listen in stunned silence as tears roll down my face.
“He thinks I underestimate him, and he’s partly right. But I don’t do it because I doubt his ability or his judgement. If anything, I’m protecting myself more than him. There aren’t many things that can hurt me, but my children can. If they hurt, I hurt too.”
Over my shoulder, I glance at Parker. He’s still watching us, still glaring.
“After Blair told me that something was going on with you two, I started asking around with Parker’s staff. When Gretchen told me that you were… you know…
An expensive prostitute, offered to him as a birthday present? Yes, I recall.
“I assumed the worst. And I acted rashly.” Finally, he turns to meet my eye. “I know it’s not enough, but I want you to know that I’m truly, deeply sorry.”
“Thank you,” I say, a little breathless.
“I know I screwed up. But if you’d be willing, I would love a second chance.”
It would be easy to say no. It’d be easy to have Parker throw him out and refuse to ever see him
again. But I’m tired of families being torn apart. More importantly, I love Parker. And despite everything, I know that Parker still worships his father.
“I’d like that,” I whisper, offering my hand. “A fresh start it is.”
Silas beams at me, and instead of taking my hand, he leans in to kiss my cheek. “Welcome to the family.”
CHAPTER 30
Mercy
I think I’m dying. It’s been three weeks since the doctor imposed the ban on “strenuous physical activity” and I’m slowly going out of my mind. It’s funny, up until recently I’d never even had sex. Now, it feels like I might die without it.
“Parker,” I whine, when he stops me from climbing on top of him on the couch, easing me gently down onto the cushions.
He gives me a chaste kiss on the lips, throws an arm over my shoulders and goes back to watching the TV show that I’ve long since stopped paying attention to. The kids are in Holtsville for the day, spending some time with friends, and this is the first time we’ve had any real time alone together in weeks.
Determined to at least fool around a little bit, I lean into his side and kiss his neck, smiling to myself when he groans. “Mercy. Please.”
“What?” I ask innocently, running my hand up his thigh. Before I can reach my intended destination, he grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together.
“I’m trying to be good,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine and closing his eyes.
“I know.” I angle my head, grazing his jaw with my teeth. “You should stop.”
The hand resting at the small of my back clenches, bunching up my t-shirt. Parker’s lips find mine, and he kisses me gently at first, and then more deeply, before wrenching his mouth away.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he pants, his breath hot on my face. In his eyes, I can see his resolve crumbling.
“You won’t hurt me.”
I lean into kiss him, more than ready to get this show on the road, when his phone rings, effectively ruining the moment. With a sigh, Parker drops his forehead to mine and we both sit there for a minute, breathing hard. Finally, he gives me a quick peck on the lips before rising from the couch to go and answer his phone.
After a quick conversation with whoever’s on the line, he hangs up and turns to me apologetically. “Something’s come up at the office. Boyd thinks I need to come in for a bit.”
He looks so adorably guilty, watching me with worried eyes and biting his lip. I almost want to laugh. He’s been working almost exclusively from home since I left the hospital, rarely leaving my side.
Shaking my head, I get up and wrap my arms around his waist, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Go. I’ll be here when you get back.”
He bends down, nuzzling his head in the crook of my neck. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I give him a long, searing kiss. “Now go.”
After a few minutes, I finally manage to get him out the door. Once he’s gone, I plop back down on the couch, and try to get back into the TV show we were watching. Just as I’m about to start a new episode, Miles enters the room.
“Ms. Chase, you have a visitor down in the lobby. A Mr. Regan. Should I tell the desk to send him up?”
“Oh. Yes, please.”
Getting up, I do my best to straighten my rumpled clothes and disheveled hair, arriving in the foyer just as the elevator dings.
“This is a surprise,” I say as Sean steps off the elevator with a beaming smile.
“I was in the neighborhood.” He winks, kissing me on the cheek and handing Miles his overcoat. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all!” I link my arm through his. “I’m practically going stir-crazy around here.”
We end up in the kitchen sipping lattes prepared by Helen, Parker’s private chef. I’m still not used to being waited on hand and foot, but it has made the healing process a great deal easier. The kids, however, have had zero problem with that particular adjustment. I’m actually starting to worry; they’re already spoiled enough as it is.
“You look good,” Sean says, wiping some foam from her upper lip. “How are you feeling?”
“Restless, more than anything else. I’m not used to lying around like this.”
“Well try to enjoy it. If anyone’s earned some down time, it’s you.”
I reach out for his hand. “I’m glad you stopped by. I wanted to thank you for everything. For being there for me these past few weeks.”
He laughs and waves me off. “Stop.”
“I’m serious!”
“I know you are.” He takes another sip of his latte. “But, you don’t have to thank me for anything. I might have lent an ear here and there, but the rest was all you. You managed to work through a really bad situation and come out on the other side in one piece. You’re a remarkable young woman.”
I roll my eyes, my cheeks blushing furiously. “Stop that before you give me a complex.”
He laughs. “Anyway, I did actually have a reason for stopping by. I’ve got some news.”
“Oh?”
“Steven and I are adopting a baby.”
I have to slap a hand over my mouth in order to contain my delighted squeal. “Sean! That’s amazing.”
“Isn’t it?” He grins, slipping out his phone. “She’s from Brazil. Almost nine months old. Here—”
He hands me his phone, showing me a picture of an adorable, chubby-faced baby, wrapped up in a pink blanket.
“She’s beautiful,” I say, smiling from ear to ear as I give back the phone. “What’s her name?”
“Adriana,” he says dreamily, love and joy dancing in his eyes. “We’re going down to Rio in two weeks to get her and bring her home.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
He beams at me, taking one last slurping sip of his coffee. “Steven and I are running around like crazy trying to get everything ready in time. Our apartment looks like a Babies-R-Us after a tornado.”
I laugh, picturing Sean’s trendy Tribeca apartment overrun with baby mania. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“There is, actually, now that you mention it.” Reaching out, he takes my hand. “Steven I would be honored if you’d agree to be Adriana’s godmother.”
I inhale sharply, ignoring the sharp twinge in my ribs. “What? Are you serious?”
He nods. “She’s gonna grow up with two dads. She’ll need a strong woman to look up to. And you are by far the strongest woman I know.”
Tears fill my eyes, my face nearly splitting in two from smiling. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes.”
“Yes! Of course, yes.” We both stand up and Sean embraces me gently. “I’d be honored.”
“Hope you don’t mind panicked phone calls at three am,” he teases. “From what I hear, kids don’t come with an instruction manual.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Don’t worry. You’ll be just fine.”
Parker
I stare at my computer screen for a long minute, re-reading the words again and again until they blur into nothing before my eyes. When I stopped by my office after the emergency meeting with my department heads, I only intended to grab a few things before heading home. These days I get anxious if I’m away from Mercy for more than five minutes and it’s been almost two hours since I was called down here. I was about to run out the door and high-tail it home, when the arrival of a new email gave me pause.
Lola. Asking for my help, as she has so many times before. And she expects it, too. She knows how to use my guilt to get what she wants. It’s always worked for her. But not anymore. Taking a deep breath, I delete the email without even reading it all the way through. And it feels good. Self-imposed burdens often weigh the heaviest and when you finally manage to shake them off, it’s like walking on air.
Boyd pokes his head in, knocking on the door. “Got a minute?”
“Not really.” I stuff a few more files into my briefcase. “I’m on my way out.”
�
�Just wanted to tell you we’ve got the greenlight on Pillarton.”
“No shit?” I laugh, surprised. “That’s awesome. Good job.”
After buying Lorelai’s shares in CG, I was able to obtain controlling interest and weaken my father’s influence. Recently, however, it seems that going to all that trouble might not have been necessary after all. In the weeks since Mercy’s ordeal, he’s backed off considerably. I’m not sure why, but I’m not about to waste time questioning my good fortune.
With my father off my back, I was able to halt our acquisition of Stuart-Graham, much to Boyd’s delight. He eagerly presented Pillarton Financial as a much more appealing addition to our conglomerate. Last week, we pitched the acquisition at our monthly board meeting. I wasn’t expecting an approval so quickly, but I’m glad we have it anyway.
For some reason, though, Boyd looks less than enthusiastic. “What’s wrong? You having doubts?”
“What?” He blinks, shaking his head. “No. I just… I’ve got some stuff going on.”
I know, of course, why he’s upset. Boyd is generally a boisterous person and he’s rarely in a bad mood. When he is, though, it’s not hard to figure out why. The last thing I want to do is get involved, but if Boyd and my sister don’t stop dancing around one another, I’m going to hurl both of them into the Hudson River.
“Three months.”
He frowns. “Huh?”
“That’s how long you’ve got until the wedding,” I say, avoiding his eye as I zip up my bag, hoisting the strap onto my shoulder.
“Whose wedding?”
“Lorelai’s.” I walk around him on my way out the door. “Figure it out.”
Honestly, the idea of my oldest friend messing around with my twin sister is about as appealing to me as Chinese water torture. That being said, I’m not about to go and forbid Lorelai from getting involved with him. She’d crush my balls with a sledgehammer if I even tried to do something like that. So, the best I can do is just try to ignore it and pretend it isn’t happening. And that’s harder to do when they’re constantly at each other's throats or moping in opposite corners. At this point I just really need for them to figure their shit out and then get it out of my face.