I’m just thankful Mister Maloney is on my side now and not working against me.
Charlie and I have moved into the estate, taking up what used to be the grand master bedroom. Uncle Charles used to keep the place pretty dark, every window covered with blackout curtains and the floor covered with musty old Persian rugs. But Charlie’s got taste, and she’s got connections. With a couple of calls and Molly’s help organizing appointments, Charlie had the whole estate looking like a palace fit for royals within a matter of weeks.
I’m standing in the front foyer waiting for the bus to arrive. The estate’s a little ways outside of Chicago, which means we have to drive kids in from Phoenix House to this specific location. Charlie and I have decided to use the estate for long-term homing purposes, whereas the brownstone apartments downtown are for more temporary measures. It's a good compromise, and so far it’s working.
I’m always excited to meet the new kids. Excited to show them where they’ll be staying, where they can lay their head down and not worry about anything else. The point of Phoenix House is to give them stability, a home. I always enjoy seeing the looks of amazement on their little faces when they step off the bus for the first time and see what Charlie and I have created for them, to see the opportunities that lie ahead.
Even with all of the renovations, the estate still looks the same as when I was growing up. The lavish gardens out front are in full bloom, colorful flowers peeking out of lush green bushes. The marble fountain out front is running, streams of trickling crystal clear water pouring over the multiple tiers into the pool below. A couple of the kids are out front playing in the tree house that Charlie and I used to play in when we were children. I question the structure stability, considering how old it is, but it seems to be holding up just fine.
I rub my hands together and shift my weight from foot to foot. It’s my attempt at expanding some of this anxious energy that’s building up inside my chest. The bus is late by about ten minutes, not unusual considering Chicago’s traffic, but it's late all the same.
I try to stay calm. Today is a beautiful day. The sun is shining, the sky is a perfect blue, and the breeze that sweeps by is perfectly warm and comforting. It kind of reminds me of our time on the island, except the sun there was a bit more harsh and my tan was more perfect. Charlie doesn't seem to mind either way.
Charlie giggles softly as she steps out on to the main steps of the mansion and joins me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Would you relax?” she asks. “They will get here when they get here.”
“I know, I know. I just hope they like it here.”
Charlie smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she does. “I’m sure they will.”
She’s wearing a colorful sundress that’s patterned with bright pink and red flowers along the base. She’s let her hair down, pretty locks spilling over her shoulders gracefully. Even though I know she looks absolutely chic in her slim black work dresses and stiletto heels, I really like how pretty Charlie looks when she wears a bit of color. It brings so much more life into her appearance; finally reflects the bubbly personality I knew she had in her all along.
“What are you doing out here anyway?” I ask. “I thought you were busy looking over the accounts.”
Ever since Charlie started working with Phoenix House, she’s made it a point of being more responsible for the administrative duties. It’s not that she’s uncomfortable being around the kids. They absolutely love her. But Charlie’s just more comfortable working with documents than she is with children, and I don't blame her.
She makes up for where I lack. I look after the children, and she looks after the numbers. Charlie seems to find joy in pointing out errors in shipping statements and marketing copy. It’s her wheelhouse, and I’m happy as long as she’s happy.
Charlie rolls her eyes. “I can run the accounts in my sleep,” she says confidently. “I kind of missed you, so I decided to come find you.”
“What do you mean ‘kind of?’ Don't you miss me all the time?”
She pretends to be disinterested. “Not really.”
I laugh and wrap my arm around her waist before placing a kiss on her forehead. “You don’t mean that.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
Off in the distance, I hear tires grinding over gravel, along with the squeak of suspensions and the occasional honk of a bus horn. A bright yellow bus pulls up the long driveway of the estate, stopping in front of the fountain. The bus is loaded with kids, many of them pressing their hands and noses up against the windows to gawk at the mansion they’ll soon call home. The bus driver opens the door, and the kids file out one by one, gathering before me and Charlie on the front steps.
“Hey, guys!” I greet. “I’m Roman, and this is Charlie. We’re both very happy to meet you all.”
A couple of the kids are brave enough to give us a wave, while some of them aren’t able to look us in the eye. That’s to be expected. These kids have already been through a lot despite their young age, and trust isn’t something they give away with a great deal of ease. The point of Phoenix House is to show them there is good in the world. That there are people who are more than happy to help if only they have the courage to ask. Being here, that's the first step.
There is about fifteen of them, which matches the records provided to us by our downtown division, all varying in ages and ethnicities. Some of them look more tired than others, so I decide to rush through the introductions. There will be plenty of time to get to know them. Right now, I just want to get them into their beds so they can rest after the long drive.
“I’ll show you guys to your rooms,” I say.
One of the little boys at the very back of the group looks like he’s about to cry. His eyes are all red and watery, his lips are chapped and cracked, and he sucks her thumb for comfort but finds none. I understand that this must be a lot for him to take in. When Uncle Charles first opened his doors to me, I remember feeling the exact same way.
I’m about to walk over to speak with him, but Charlie beats me to it.
“What's wrong, honey?”
“Am I dreaming?”
Charlie giggles, sweet and delightful. “No, honey, you’re not dreaming.”
“I’m really allowed to stay here?” he asks, reaching to take Charlie’s hand.
Charlie peers down at the little boy, nothing but love in his eyes. “That’s right. You get to stay here until your new family comes to find you. Isn’t that exciting?”
The little boy beams. “Are you a princess? You’re so pretty!”
The smile that stretches across Charlie’s face is downright magical. It makes my heart flip, my stomach twist, and my pulse stops. A realization hits me hard, like a runaway freight train. I never want to stop seeing her smile like that. I want to wake up to that face for the rest of my life. There’s no one else on the entire planet I would rather spend my remaining days with. I think about how lucky I am to have found Charlie, and I get to call her mine.
As I lead the new group of children inside, I slowly start to make plans in the back of my head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Charlie
I like to read to the kids before they go to bed. Especially the younger ones who all look up at me with those big eyes of theirs that I can’t resist. The older boys’ wing is in the east, while the younger boys’ are in the west wing. Tonight, however, is a special occasion. We sometimes have one big sleepover in the main hall, which is big enough to fit every single kid and their sleeping bags that were graciously donated by Bliss Media’s new CEO as a part of a community outreach program.
On the last day of every month we have a little get together. Sometimes we’ll watch movies, sometimes we’ll play video games, and sometimes—like tonight—I will read to the kids.
I had to dig through the attic to find my old book of fairy tales that had been gifted to me a long, long time ago. It’s a leather-bound first edition, very rare. The kids don’t much care for its mon
etary value, however. They’re more interested in the stories inside.
The older kids don’t really pay as much attention, but they’ll drift in and out and that’s totally okay. It’s the little ones who are gathered in a semicircle in front of me, looking up at me in awe as I give them the details of how the Beauty saved the Beast.
I make it through several different fairy tales—Alice In Wonderland, Red Riding Hood, Cinderella—all of them met with an avalanche of questions that I can’t answer.
Jessica raises her hand before speaking. “If Cinderella’s shoe was such a perfect fit, why did it fall off in the first place?”
I laugh. “I actually have no idea.”
Tammy, the little girl sitting directly beside her, also raises her hand. “Why would Alice drink the vial if it’s so suspiciously marked? Does she want to die or something?”
“Yeah, I’ll admit that one’s a bit sketchy. Alice doesn’t have street smarts.”
“Not like us,” Jessica says animatedly.
I giggle. “Exactly.”
Avery yawns. “Can we read one more before bed?”
I quickly glance at the grandfather clock just to my right. It’s a little after 11:00 p.m. The kids are normally asleep by now, as I always adhere to a strict sleep schedule to make sure they’re getting enough rest. Growing boys and girls need at least eight hours of sleep a day, so I always stress the importance of getting to bed at a reasonable hour.
“I think that’s all for the night,” I say. I’m met with a protest of groans, which I ignore. “Everybody back to your sleeping bags. Let’s call it a night.”
With some reluctance, the kids tuck themselves in. The chandelier hanging above the main hallway has been dimmed so only a faint glow illuminates our surroundings, not bright enough to keep everyone awake, but providing enough light so the younger children won’t be scared of the dark. I climbed the first few steps of the stairway, holding on to the railing as I turn to look over the children one last time.
“Goodnight, everyone.”
“Goodnight, Miss Pace,” a chorus of whispers reaches my ears.
I climb the rest of the stairs and make it to the second floor, treading down the long hallways until I make it to the master bedroom. The whole mansion is quiet, so it's easy to hear the clicking of a keyboard sounding from the other side of the door. I knock twice to announce my entrance before entering the bedroom. I find Roman sitting on the other side of the mahogany writing desk that used to belong to Uncle Charles. He's got his headphones in, listening to music, so Roman doesn’t hear me approach. It isn’t until I’m on the other side of the desk that he realizes he isn’t alone.
He startles. “Oh, geez.”
I giggle softly. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“You didn’t frighten me. I was just so taken with your beauty.”
I snort and roll my eyes. “That was very smooth, good job.”
Roman grins. “Thank you very much. Are the kids down for the night?”
“They are indeed. What are you working on this late?”
“Stuff.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Stuff?”
“Yeah. Stuff.”
“You couldn't sound more suspicious if you tried.”
Roman gets up from the office chair and circles the desk to cup my face in his hands. He kisses me tenderly before chuckling. “I have a surprise for you,” he says.
“You know I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this one,” he says confidently. He takes my hand and begins to guide me out of the bedroom. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Suspicious, suspicious,” I chide, but go along with it.
Roman leads me downstairs using the staircase that leads out of the east wing exit, so we don't disturb the children in the main hall. We leave through the grand Spanish doors and enter the back courtyard. None of the garden lights are on, so it’s a little difficult to make out the stone path before us. We have to work with the faint silver glow of the moon above and the twinkle of stars suspended millions of lightyears away in the night sky.
He takes me to the hedge maze. The branches are thick, and the leaves are luscious. The children aren't allowed to play in the hedge maze at night because they could easily be lost amongst all of the twists and turns. The gardener does a good job of trimming everything to keep things neat and orderly, but the rules are the rules, and the kids know not to come here when it gets dark. For that reason, I'm incredibly curious as to why Roman would bring me here.
I turn to him. “What's going on?”
“Find your way to the exit,” he tells me cryptically.
I frown. “Why?”
Roman chuckles. “Do you trust me?”
I nod. “Of course I do.”
“Then find your way to the exit, and that’s where you'll find your surprise.”
“Will you come rescue me if I get lost?”
“You won’t get lost. There are clues along the way that will help you.”
“I don't even get a flashlight?”
Roman laughs. “Go. Trust me.”
I take a deep breath. I am both amused and a bit worried. When I was a little girl, I used to get lost in the hedge maze all the time. I used to pretend I was stuck in a labyrinth, trying to find my way out after slaying the minotaur. But then I'd lose my way, the sun would set, and the night would get cold. More often than not, it was Roman who had to come and save me. At least I know if I get lost, Roman is only a few yards away.
I enter the hedge maze and head straight. I take a left, then a right, and then another right. Sitting before me on a marble pedestal is an envelope, its edge highlighted by the light of the moon. As soon as I pick it up off of the pedestal, a string of fairy lights turns on illuminating the path I'm supposed to be following. I open the envelope and pull out a tiny card which has been written on with black ink.
I promise to guide you when things get hard.
I recognize the penmanship. It's a little messy, and the ink is smudged because someone had to write it with their left hand. I’d recognize Roman’s writing anywhere.
I follow the string of lights until I've taken so many turns I can no longer keep track of things in my mental map. I follow the illuminated path faithfully and eventually come across another column with another envelope sitting atop. Sitting next to it is a single red rose. I open the envelope and reveal another card.
I promise to make you smile every single day.
I smile. This is turning out to be a very sweet surprise after all. I am very curious to find out what's waiting for me at the very end.
The string of fairy lights is then joined with a path of fresh red petals littering the ground. I follow my two clues and proceed to take several more confusing turns until I come across another pedestal directly next to the hedge maze’s exit. Once again there is another envelope and sitting next to it is an open velvet ring box. I frown in confusion when I see there's nothing inside. The final card reads:
I promise to cherish and love you.
I leave the maze and find Roman standing beneath the big oak tree we always used to climb. He's smiling wider than I've ever seen him smile. Roman gets down on one knee and holds up the diamond engagement ring that was missing from the box.
“Charlie Pace,” he begins. “You are my world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to reminisce about old memories with you, and I want to create new memories with you. I have been in love with you for a very long time. I seriously don't ever see that changing. So I was wondering if you would do me the honor of being my wife. Charlie, will you marry me?”
I throw my arms around him, and we both go tumbling down. I kiss him hard, all while giggling breathlessly. “Yes, I'll marry you!”
We are suddenly greeted by the cheers of two dozen children, all clapping and laughing and whistling as they congratulate us. I can't help but
laugh as Roman slips the ring onto my finger.
“I love you, Roman.”
“I love you too, Charlie.”
“Congratulations,” the kids cheer in unison.
“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it.”
Roman nods. “They helped me set this up.”
“I guess that's as good of an excuse as any to be out of bed,” I joke.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Roman
Our wedding takes place in the Cayman Islands because, of course. We both missed it here, so the location made a lot of sense.
Everything about today is perfect. Even though the sun is too harsh, even though the smell of spray-on sunblock is a little overbearing, and even though I'm concerned that the ice cream wedding cake will melt before we get the chance to dig into it, I am the happiest man alive.
I never could have imagined getting married on a beach, yet here I am. The lazy waves hug the shore and seagulls chirp happily in the distance. We've got an entire section of the beach cornered off so it's nice and private for our small reception. We don't have many guests, but that's by design. Just close friends and the love of my life.
Being back here in the Caymans sure brings back memories. The last time we were here, our relationship had been in a very different, very awkward place. I’m very grateful Charlie and I have been able to move on, been able to work together to be a well-oiled team. I can’t think of a more perfect and suitable place to get married than in the exact location where we really fell in love during a really fake honeymoon.
Charlie stands before me in a pretty lace wedding gown with a light veil flowing from her elegant French bun. Decorative white pins in the shape of flowers adorn her head like a crown. She looks absolutely gorgeous. Her dress combined with the veil makes her look like she’s part of the sea foam, light and soft and practically floating in place. Sun kissed, cheeks rosy, the light of my life no matter what she looks like.
I'm dressed in a less traditional fashion. I'm in a nice white linen shirt and a pair of khaki shorts to combat against the Cayman Island’s significantly spicier weather. It's all nice and relaxed and not at all what I expected my wedding to be, but I mean that in the best of ways.
Forgotten Inheritance (Inherit Love Book 6) Page 16