Drew

“What is she doing here?” Molly barks out the instant I walk into the kitchen.

I come to a dead stop, bewildered. Brooklyn stands with Molly and Gigi by the island, each one wearing a different expression. As expected, Molly is pissed, Gigi is concerned, but Brooklyn appears more empathetic.

“Shh.” I place a finger over my mouth, glancing into the living room where Noah and Uncle Leo seem to have the girls occupied.

“Seriously. What makes her think she can just—”

“She came to drop off these.” I toss the documents onto the countertop. Three sets of eyes zero in on them. Molly and Gigi furrow their brow, but it only takes Brooklyn a few seconds to read the captions on each of them to realize what it means, the importance of these papers.

“Oh, Drew,” she exhales, wrapping her arms around me. I place a hand on her back, relishing in the warmth of her body against mine. Nothing’s ever felt so right. And it feels even better now that I no longer have to worry about my girls, either. For months, I’ve been dreading June ninth, worried I’d forever remember it as the day I lost everything. Instead, it’s the day I’ve gained everything.

“I don’t get it,” Molly says. “There’s a reason I never wanted to be a lawyer.”

“Carla’s withdrawing her request for custody modification,” Brooklyn explains, facing her. I keep my arm around her waist. “She’s also given Drew her consent to adopt Charlotte and even went so far as to obtain Chase’s relinquishment of parental rights.”

“English, please.”

“It means Drew can adopt Charlotte. Officially. And Carla and Chase won’t stand in the way.”

“Daddy?” a small voice says. We all turn to see Charlotte standing off to the side, Alyssa beside her. “What’s going on?”

I open my mouth, unsure how to explain all this so they’ll understand and not hate their biological mother. They’ve always been compassionate and understanding, thanks to all the positive influences in their lives. I pray they’ll be compassionate and understanding of this situation now, too.

“Come here, girls.” I squat to their level, gesturing for them to come closer.

With long expressions, they head toward me, their steps sluggish and uncertain. I grab each of their hands in mine, smiling at them. “You know how I told you about your real mother a few weeks ago? How she was asking the judge to allow her to spend time with you?”

“Yeah,” Alyssa replies, her tone filled with hostility, her distaste for the situation mirroring Molly’s. There’s no doubt where she got her attitude.

“Well, she came over to tell me she wasn’t going to do that anymore, that she hopes we can work this out between ourselves instead. After she saw you girls at the museum a few months ago, she asked if I’d let her spend time with you. I was so hurt by what she did to me and you, how she left all of us, that I didn’t consider her needs. I didn’t believe her when she insisted she changed, refused to acknowledge how much she did change. I was selfish and told her no. I hurt her, just like she hurt me, hurt us.”

“Good,” Alyssa sneers.

“Lyss.” I narrow my gaze on her. “I want you to listen to what I have to say, because whether you like it or not, this woman gave birth to you, and she will always be a part of you.”

“But she’s trying to take us away from you. And she lied to you about Charlotte.”

I run my thumb over their knuckles, looking between the two of them. “That may be true, but she also did something to make up for that, something she didn’t have to do. She’s given me her consent to adopt Charlotte as my own.”

“Adopt?” Charlotte asks, her brow furrowed.

“Yes, sweetie. There are still a few steps we’ll need to go through, but I plan to call my lawyer first thing on Monday to get the wheels in motion to make you mine officially, something that wouldn’t have been possible without your mother’s consent.”

“So I’m not going to have to go live with someone else?”

With a smile, I shake my head. “No, sweetie. This is your home. And it always will be. I understand how confusing this must be for you.” I shift my gaze to Alyssa. “For both of you. I know you’re angry about what she did, and you have every right to be…” I trail off, struggling at how best to encourage them to look past Carla’s mistakes. Brooklyn squeezes my shoulder. I tilt my head, briefly meeting her supportive smile before I return my eyes to the girls. “You remember how I told you I’ve loved your auntie Brooklyn a very long time?”

They both nod.

“Well, you see, I hurt her…bad. So bad, in fact, that she had every right to never want to talk to me again. I made her a promise that I’d always be there for her, but I broke that promise.” I squeeze their hands tighter. “But she found it in her heart to forgive me, to give me a second chance. That’s part of life, girls. Everyone makes mistakes. No one’s perfect. I don’t want you going through life hating your mother because of this. She loves you both so much. Enough to sacrifice her own happiness for yours. As much as she wants to get to know you, she’s withdrawn her request for custody so you can stay here. Take it from me. That gesture is so selfless, especially considering she has the right to be a part of your lives.

“You are smart, caring, empathetic girls. I have no idea what I did to raise such amazing people. What I’m about to ask of you may be difficult, but I beg you to reach deep down and find the compassion I know you both possess. I want you to meet her. I want her to get to know how incredible you two are. And I want you to get to know your little brother.”

They shoot their wide eyes to each other, inhaling a breath at the same time. Then Alyssa slowly looks back at me. “We have a little brother?”

I nod. “I’m sure she’ll tell you all about him, if you give her this chance. So, can you do this for me? Can you keep your hearts open?”

Charlotte gazes at Alyssa, looking to her for guidance.

“Okay,” Alyssa says, nodding. “We’ll meet her.”

I smile and pull them into my arms, squeezing them. “Thank you.” I kiss the top of their heads. “I love you both so much. And your mother does, too. Just give her a chance.”

“Okay,” they respond again. I keep them in my embrace for several more moments. This will be an adjustment for everybody. There will most likely be some slips and falls along the way, but I know we’ll all be better in the end.

Gradually releasing my hold on them, I stand. Brooklyn kisses my cheek, encouraging me, and I turn toward the front door, a nervous flutter in my stomach at how this will all play out. All I can do is support my girls through this big change.

The instant I open the door, Carla whips her head toward me, the trail worn into the sandy path evidence of her pacing. She looks at me with a questioning expression.

“Come on in.”

All it takes is three words and the tension she’s carried since we first ran into each other all those months ago melts off her. She takes a deep breath, then starts toward me, her eyes darting around.

I grab her hand in mine, the feel of her fingers intertwining with mine odd. There’s no spark, no fireworks, no electricity. But there never was with us.

“It’ll be okay.”

She pushes out an anxiety-ridden laugh as I lead her through the entryway. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous.” She lowers her voice, leaning into me. “I didn’t expect to see them today. I would have brought them a gift or something.”

“Trust me.” My light tone cuts through the strain. “They have more than enough toys.”

“I don’t doubt that for a minute. You spoiled me when we were together. I can only imagine how you dote on those little girls.”

We turn the corner into the kitchen, our conversation ceasing as we come face to face with Alyssa and Charlotte, who wear the same curious expression. You could hear a pin drop as we all remain still. The girls survey Carla, seeming to analyze everything about her. Carla trembles beside me, swiping away her tears with her free hand.

“Why are you sad?” Charlotte asks quietly.

“Oh, baby. I’m not sad,” she responds, as if it were just yesterday when she sang “Rock-A-Bye Baby” to her, making up new lyrics for every verse. She releases her hold on me, stepping toward them. “Quite the opposite. I’m so happy to be here, to see you and Alyssa.” She looks at Alyssa. “I am so sorry for what I did, for leaving you. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I just… I hope you’ll let me get to know you. I’ll take whatever you can give me. No pressure. Okay?”

“We have a brother?” Alyssa presses.

“Yes.” Carla smiles, her eyes lighting up. “You two are going to be such amazing big sisters.”

“What’s his name?”

“Thomas.” There’s a glow about her as she answers, the way she says his name proof of how much she adores her son.

“How old is he?” Charlotte inquires.

“Two-and-a-half.”

She ponders that response for a moment. Then, seemingly satisfied, approaches Carla, holding her hand toward her. “Do want to see my American Girl doll Daddy just got me?”

Carla hesitates, looking back at me, as if for permission. I nod, never feeling as proud of my daughter as I do right now.

Thank you, she mouths as she allows Charlotte to pull her toward the living area, Alyssa close on their heels. I can’t help but smile as I watch them take turns showing her their favorite toys. It only takes a matter of minutes before they’re laughing and joking, the past six years evaporating.

“You’re a good man, Andrew Brinks,” Brooklyn says, looping an arm around my waist.

“No, I’m not,” I respond as I observe the changed family dynamic. Even Molly seems to be giving Carla the benefit of the doubt. “I’m just trying to make up for a lifetime of regrets. Everyone deserves a second chance.” I kiss the top of her head, inhaling a soothing breath. “You taught me that lesson. And I’ll forever be grateful you found it in your heart to give me that second chance.”

“Or third or fourth,” she jokes, as she always does when we talk about this.

“Nuance, my dear Brooklyn. Simply a nuance.” Our eyes lock and I bring my mouth to hers, our kiss delicate and unhurried.

“For the record, I’d give you a tenth chance if need be.”

“Good to know, but let’s hope it never gets to that.”

“Why not?” She pulls back, biting on her lower lip, a flirtatious air about her. “I hear makeup sex is really hot.” She waggles her brows.

My eyes grow heated as I lower my voice. “Well then, let’s pick something to disagree about and find out how hot it can be, although I’m not sure anything can top this morning.”

“You’re probably right, but we can spend the rest of our lives trying.”

I pull her against me. “I like the sound of that.”