by Maggie Marr
“Quite a thick stack of paper, and all those yellow tabs? That’s where we sign?”
Justin lifted the stack and flipped through the pages. “So it would seem. I believe there are copies for you and copies for me and copies for the court.”
He handed her a stack. She took them and walked toward the couch as she read. Even now she still pursed her lips, and her eyebrows pulled together when she concentrated. He remembered that look from years before. He’d often studied her face when they worked together. He’d been quite fond of that particular look, which indicated complete concentration. Beautiful concentration. Justin sat in the chair perpendicular to the couch, and he too began to read. The scent of Aubrey was a distraction. Lavender and mint and sunshine and fresh air.
“Coffee?” he asked and stood. His attorneys had drafted the damn documents; he didn’t need to read them.
“Yes please,” she said without looking up. “I get this set about paternity no problem.” She set one stack on the coffee table. “But what about these?” Her eyes looked up at him. “You want me to sign these to change Max’s name?”
“He is a Travati.” Justin poured coffee into a cup. “You still use milk and two sugars?”
“You remember?” A tiny smile danced over her lips, and for a moment the sadness in her eyes actually lifted.
He’d like to see that sadness be banished. He knew that he and this stack of papers and her worries about Max were causing these fears and this sadness. “Of course,” he said and finished making her coffee. He walked toward the couch and reached out to hand her the mug. “I remember a lot of things.” His voice was lower, softer. He did remember things about her, things that had stuck in his mind. There’d been many women since her; he couldn’t remember their faces or the scent of them. But Aubrey Hayes, who had worked for him for nearly eighteen months and absented herself from his life over a decade ago? Yes, her he remembered.
“Your favorite color is this emerald green, very close to your eyes.”
She took a sip of her coffee, and her smile began to form with his words.
“Your favorite season is spring, but you love Christmas.”
“Pretty good.” She nodded and set down her coffee cup. Her gaze landed on his.
“And your favorite vacation, at least when I knew you, was a post-MBA trip you took to a resort in Tahiti. Mesquale, wasn’t it?”
Aubrey nodded. “You know, I was back there recently for a wedding. I think maybe I saw your brother across the room.”
“Devon?”
“Exactly. We didn’t speak. There were close to four hundred guests.”
“Was that Ryan Murphy’s wedding? To a waitress he fell in love with?”
“When you say it like that, you sound like a snob.” She sat back against the couch and folded her arms over her chest. “She’s lovely, and they were very much in love. Different than Paloma, but still charming and smart and just exactly the right person for him.”
“You and Paloma were close.”
Aubrey nodded. “I couldn’t believe when I heard … that …” Her gaze fluttered up toward his. “She was brilliant and beautiful, and it simply confirms that life can change in an instant.” She bit her bottom lip. “I called you after I heard about Paloma.”
Surprise thrust through Justin. “I never—”
“The office. You were out and I didn’t leave a name or number. I just … After that happened and with Max and—”
“Was that the only time?”
Aubrey shook her head. “There’ve been other attempts.”
Heat broke into his heart. A mix of anger and sadness and some sort of grief thrummed through his blood. “But why not?”
“Fear, maybe. According to Nina, a need to control combined with fear.” She stood and paced. “I don’t know. This.” She pointed to the unsigned packets of paper that lay on the coffee table. She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I mean all of it, I suppose. Plus I’d built a life here and you’d built a life there and then what to do with Max—”
“We will work this out,” Justin said. His anger subsided. She was a good mother, a protective mother, a mother who had truly been trying to do what was best for their son.
“I really did want Max to be more formed emotionally, maturity wise, before he was thrust into that lifestyle. I mean, we saw it. You saw it. The trust fund kids—the ones in the clubs with the limitless accounts? How they spent and didn’t work and did the drugs and the never-ending parties … Max is better than that. I wanted better than that for him. It wasn’t you, Justin, that I wanted to keep him away from, it was the lifestyle and all those things came with you and the money. Good God, the money and all the doors it opens, both good and bad. I just … When I’d think about it, all of it, I’d become frozen with fear, nearly paralyzed. I mean, I know people succeed with all those benefits and some are even normal, but I wanted Max to have this kind of childhood, quiet and solid. Where he was with regular people who expected him to do regular things.”
“Right. Because growing up at a two-star Michelin restaurant is so normal.”
“We only have one star, and we just did get that two years ago. For most of his life this, what you see around you, has been a constant battle to maintain. A true labor of love. Now, this year, we’re only now starting to see some success after a decade of struggle.”
What she said was true. He’d studied the financials. She’d been a miracle worker to get this far out in the middle of nowhere.
“He has chores, Justin. When he’s here he collects eggs. He milks cows. He feeds goats. He takes care of Scout. Chores. Responsibilities. Living things depend on his consistency. He doesn’t have a maid. He doesn’t have a nanny. He doesn’t go to a fancy private school where the children holiday in Switzerland and summer in the Hamptons. His best friend last year was nearly on welfare. And while I want him to experience all the things that your success and your money can give him, I also wanted him to see normal. The way people truly live. Call it pedestrian if you will, but I just … I was trying to do what I though was best for our son.”
Justin nodded. While he didn’t agree with her methodology, because fifteen years was simply too damn long and incredibly selfish, he knew to his soul that her heart had been in the right place. That Aubrey had truly been trying to form the most well-rounded and empathetic human being she possibly could in the way she chose to raise Max.
“So about his name.”
Justin sat up straighter. “He’s my son; he should have my name.”
Aubrey nodded. “And I’m okay with that. But I think we should ask Max.”
Justin tilted his head.
“I’ve taken a number of decisions from him in the past fifteen years, and now I need to start giving them back. I don’t feel strongly either way. He can take your name, but I’d prefer if it was his decision.”
Justin’s heart thumped in his chest. Moments like these she surprised him, shocked him. He’d thought Max taking his name would be a battle that he’d have to wage on all fronts. But Aubrey was telling the truth—he could see it in her eyes.
“That sounds more than fair.”
“Excellent.” Aubrey walked toward the front door. “Well then, I suppose we should go and ask him.” She appeared to be a hummingbird ready to zip away.
“Thank you,” Justin said and stood. He’d waited. He’d been very patient, not even asked when they could go and meet his son. Now, in this instant, with the time upon them, his heart cracked against his ribs and his entire body thrummed with an excitement that even the most lucrative deal he’d closed hadn’t created within him.
“I’ll drive.” Justin scooped up his keys and walked to the door.
“Good,” Aubrey said. “Because I can’t seem to concentrate on much other than the fact that my son is about to meet his dad.”
Justin grasped Aubrey’s arms in his hands. “I was telling you the truth when I said we’d work this out together. We will. All three of us.”
<
br /> Aubrey nodded, the sadness again in her eyes, the sadness that pulled at his heart. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss, meant to be chaste, ignited. He could spend the rest of today and all of his life kissing Aubrey. They pulled apart and looked into each other’s eyes.
“I’m not certain that we should share this with Max,” Aubrey said. “I’m afraid it might be confusing to him. I mean, it’s confusing to me.”
“Understood. But Aubrey, it’s not confusing to me. I want you both. Not just Max, but you too. I want you both in my life.”
Her mouth dropped open. “I …”
“We were meant to be together. Max is meant to be a Travati, and so are you.”
“Justin … We … It’s been years.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s been years, but we worked side by side and then you left and neither of us found another person. Now Max, our son, has brought us together again. My God, Aubrey, how many damned signs do you need? I made a billion dollars listening to my gut—it’s never wrong. And after last night and today, I know without a doubt that we are meant to be a family. You, me and Max.”
“I … I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, Max gets to decide if he wants my name, you get to make the same decision.”
She was stunned. Shocked. But the sadness was gone from her eyes. Justin kissed her once more. He was sure, he was certain, he knew exactly how he wanted this to end, with a family of three. Him, Aubrey, and Max together. Now he only needed to convince his son and the mother of his son that his vision for their future was the best one for all of them.
Chapter 13
How did one meet their fourteen-year-old son, a nearly formed adult whom they’d never before met? Justin wasn’t one to become nervous. He’d worked hard, found success in school and then in his company. He, with his brothers, had managed to build an empire from nearly nothing. He was the oldest Travati, the one who guided the family and ran Travati Financial. An unfamiliar sensation clutched his belly as he wound around the long gravel road that led to Camp Willow.
“Next left.” Aubrey sat on the edge of her seat, the seat belt strap across her chest fighting to keep her in place.
What would he say? How should he say it? What exactly had Aubrey told their son about him?
Anger tightened his chest. Difficult for him to think that he’d not had the opportunity to meet his son in nearly fifteen years. For a moment he wanted to hurl insults at Aubrey, recriminations and disdain. What if he had died? What if he’d never known Max nor Max him?
“What kind of conversations did you have with Max about me?” He glanced from the road. “Aubrey?”
“I didn’t say much.” She turned toward the passenger window. “Until just before camp. I … We …” She turned her face back toward him and her lips turned down with an impossible look of sadness. “I tried to avoid the topic, and that worked until he went to Dad and asked him.”
Roy, the stern-faced man who’d saved him from the woods.
“Let me guess, your father answered his every question.”
“As best he could. But Dad didn’t even know the whole truth. No one did. I kept the fact that I hadn’t told you about Max to myself.”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel of the Range Rover. Anger thrummed through his chest. He cared for Aubrey, he might always care for her, she was the mother of his child, but there was still a resentment there about her decision, a decision that he still considered selfish.
“I see.”
“My reasons, now when I think of them, I realize that they were selfish, that they were wrong. You have the right to know your son. I know I’ve stolen time from you two … For that, I’m sorry.” She started to reach her hand toward his but stopped herself and pulled back. She turned her face from his and looked out the front of the car. “You must hate me.”
He shook his head. “Hate is too easy. I’m conflicted. Torn.” He was angry, but this pull he had toward Aubrey, this draw, this chemistry, wasn’t going away even with his anger.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” she nearly whispered. She reached for her purse, which lay at her feet, and started rummaging through her bag. She came out with a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. “Seems like I’ve cried more in the past week than I have in the past fifteen years.”
Guilt cascaded through his chest. He didn’t want to punish Aubrey, really he didn’t. He’d meant what he’d said before they left Rockwater Farms, but he couldn’t seem to get his mind wrapped around the idea of forgiveness. While he might want her, desire her, even enjoy her company—hell, more than enjoy—he couldn’t see the path to forgiveness. It was though he was still trapped in those damned woods without any bars on his cell phone, only this time there was no grumpy old man to save him.
He reached out his hand and clasped Aubrey’s fingers. He turned off the frontage road and onto the gravel one that, according to his GPS, would lead directly to the entrance of Camp Willow. “I accept your apology.” And he did he truly did, but accepting her apology and forgiving her where two entirely different things.
He pulled the SUV into the parking lot of Camp Willow. Aubrey had called ahead and asked the camp director to have Max ready to come home to Rockwater Farms. They were to meet in the administrative offices. They climbed from the vehicle and headed up to the main cabin.
“You ready for this?”
Justin cleared his throat and pulled open the door to the administrative cabin. “Yes. Yes, I am. Are you?”
*
Aubrey didn’t answer Justin’s question. Instead, she walked into the cool air of the administration building, the only place in all of Camp Willow that had the luxury of air-conditioning. One of the camp counselors led them both into the office of Shirley Rossman, the current head of camp. Max sat in the chair facing Shirley’s desk, his black hair so similar to his father’s, his shoulders broad and just on the verge of becoming a man’s.
She stopped. Breath halted in her lungs. The moment he turned around, his world would be forever changed, her world would be forever changed. Never again would it be just her and Max and her family in the world. No, now Max would have the Travati family too, a host of successful uncles and a father to turn to for guidance. She pressed her hand to her chest. Damn. The change that was about to take place nearly knocked her to her knees.
“Ah, Aubrey, I see you made it.” Shirley glanced across the room.
Aubrey’s fingers tingled, and she tried to smile but guessed that it looked like a jagged line across her face. She didn’t feel happiness; no, instead a mix of fear and excitement and a kind of melancholy thrummed through her chest. So many emotions that she couldn’t seem to grab one. They all bounced about, searching for primacy. She held out her hand. “Director Rossman, thank you so much.”
Max’s head whipped around and his gaze caught hers, a hint of fear in his eyes. “Is Grandpa okay? Aunt Nina?”
Of course his first thoughts were that something horrible had happened, something bad that would cause her to pull him from camp.
“Of course, everyone is fine. That’s not why we’re here—”
Max’s eyes traveled past her. His jaw dropped open. And then his gaze flicked back to meet hers.
“We’re here because—”
“I’ll give you all a moment,” Director Rossman said. She smiled at Aubrey and squeezed her shoulder, then slipped out the door of her office and quietly pulled it closed.
Aubrey had to move; she needed to walk forward. Justin was just behind her, and he was trying to be respectful of her process, but her mouth … Her mouth didn’t seem able to form the words to tell Max that this man with her was his father. This moment would be seared into their brains for the rest of their lives. She needed to be strong and not wallow in her own guilt; she needed to do this the right way, to set the correct tone for the beginning of this new world that included Max’s father.
“We needed to come now because—” Aubrey stepped away from Ju
stin and closer to her son. “Well, because it was time for you to meet your father.”
Max’s eyes widened. He looked at the man who stood before him.
“Max, I’m Justin. But if you want, you can call me dad. Or not. Whatever you feel most comfortable with.”
Suddenly her son didn’t look like a near-man anymore but instead, once again, the little boy she remembered. His eyes seemed a little lost, as though he didn’t know what to say or what to do, his body too big for the boy inside. He stood and his eyebrows furrowed. He pressed his hands into his pockets and again glanced from his mom to Justin.
Max thrust out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Justin did the same, a firm handshake between the two. Was that a tremble in Justin’s chin? He didn’t let go of Max’s hand. Instead, he stepped forward and pulled the boy into a hug. Pressed his hand to his back and Max, beautiful Max, seemed thankful for that, because he slung his arm around Justin and took the hug from this person who was a stranger and yet shared this bond with him.
Justin stepped back and his eyes were wet. “You are one fine-looking young man. I can’t tell you how pleased I am to meet you. I …” He stopped speaking and took a shuddering breath. “How pleased I was to get your e-mail and then to speak to your mom. I never thought I would ever be so lucky to have a son.”
Max nodded. His face flamed a bit. Aubrey knew that look. He was fighting his emotion, trying hard to keep in his feelings, to be a man, a near-man, to meet his father the right way for the first time. Aubrey pressed her fingertips to her lips. She had caused all this pent-up emotion, all this pain, all this confusion, and even though this moment wasn’t about her or the guilt that cascaded through her chest, those emotions combined with the joy of seeing these two together for the first time.
“So,” Justin said and released Max without stepping away, “we were thinking that maybe you’d come home now. If you don’t mind. It seems we have a lot to discuss. I know that this is your first week at camp—”