With These Four Rings - Book Five: Wedding Bonus (Billionaire Brides of Granite Falls 5) (8 page)

“Boys are raised to be strong, tough, and not show their feelings, their hurts, not to ask for help, not to admit they’re wrong. And when they behave accordingly, they’re labeled as jerks.” She balked at the hypocrisy. “I’m not going to raise my son like that. I’m going to teach him that it’s okay to cry, to ask for help, and to admit that he’s wrong way before the situation gets out of control. I didn’t see the double standard until I took a good hard look at myself and realized what a selfish bitch I was back then.”

“Michelle, darling, you weren’t. You were hurting.”

“So was Erik,” she responded vehemently. “Why should my pain excuse my actions, when you don’t allow his pain to excuse his? By keeping him from his father, I would have messed up my son and scarred him psychologically and emotionally for life. That was insensitive. I was not being a good mother. It wasn’t Erik’s job to be perfect in order for me to love him, no more than it was mine to be perfect for him to love me. Once we made a commitment to each other, our jobs were to love one another, realize that we’re perfect for each other in spite of our mistakes and inadequacies. Love is like a two-lane street with two motorists and no guardrail between them. Neither is blameless when a collision occurs. We go up and down and back and forth in separate directions, but always with the hope of meeting somewhere in the middle for a magical, magnetic connection. Then we meld and cruise together blissfully until one of us hits a pothole again. We both messed up. We were both to blame,” she said with finality. “So get off my husband’s back, please.”

“You’re an oracle, wise beyond your years,” Felicia murmured in wonder and admiration. “You’re barely thirty years old, yet you have the wisdom of a ninety-year-old woman.”

“Erik and I are learning a lot from our sessions with Samantha, and I listen in when she counsels the women and children at my foundation.”

“My son is so lucky to have you in his life. You have done for him what I should have been there to do when he was growing up—teach him how to love, to cherish and hold on to those he loves. By giving him away, I taught him that love wasn’t worth fighting for. We should have all chosen better—Philippe, Danielle, and me. We were so caught up in our own wants and needs that none of us stopped to think about how our decisions and actions would affect him. We were selfish. It’s clear as day to me now.”

“If you could do it again, would you have chosen not to have him?”

“Oh God, no.” Felicia pressed her hand to her chest as if it hurt. “I can’t imagine my life without him and the four beautiful grandchildren he’s given me. But I would have kept him. I would have raised him myself instead of handing him over to my best friend. That’s my regret.” Her voice broke on a sob.

Michelle reached over and patted her on the arm. “We all have regrets, Felicia. Don’t beat yourself up. You did what you thought was right at the time.” She settled down into her lounge and studied a butterfly dancing around a bed of flowers near the bottom step of the cabana before she spoke again. “Even though Erik constantly shows me how much he loves and appreciates me, it was still a nice surprise to read his side of the story along with the public.”

Felicia gasped. “You didn’t know anything about it?”

“None of us ladies did. Kaya stumbled upon a copy at Fontaine Enterprises this morning and called the rest of us.” She wondered how her friend was doing with her chat with Bryce. “I don’t usually read
Granite Falls People News.
With Erik gone so much, and four kids to raise, not to mention the time I put in at the foundation, I hardly have time to read my basal thermometer.”

Felicia shot upright. “Are you and Erik thinking about having another child already?” She tossed a glance at Fiona. “She’s only seven months old.”

“No, Mom.” Michelle adjusted her sunglasses. “We’re using the rhythm method, so I have to keep daily track of my body temperature, among other things.”

“Does that really work?”

“It did with Fiona. We conceived her when we were ready for another child. We weren’t using birth control with Tiffany which is why she’s so close in age to Little Erik.”

Felicia expelled a sigh of relief and reclined into the lounge. “Not that I don’t love my grandchildren, but you need to give your body a break, girl. Three children in five years is a lot.”

Michelle regarded her with amusement in her eyes and voice. “Why, they wear you out on sleepover nights, Grandma?”

“I’d be lying if I say they didn’t. Whenever Little Erik leaves, I always feel like I’ve spent a week in the ring with Muhammad Ali. Tiffany, I can deal with. She’s quiet and sweet, and I hope Fiona will be just like her.”

“I think you’re just partial to girls. Did you wish Erik was a girl?”

“No. I just wished for a healthy baby.” Her smile faded a little. “Sometime I wish I had another child, though. Erik was lonely growing up.”

“He told me. That’s one of the reasons we decided to have seven chil—”

“Seven!” Felicia barked. “You mean you’re doing this four more times?”

Michelle laughed at the absurd look on Felicia’s face. “That was the plan, but Fiona was such a difficult birth that Erik and I got to thinking about adopting. The world is overflowing with unwanted and unloved children who need homes. We have more than enough to provide for them. I fell in love with Precious right off the bat, so I know I can love another woman’s child as my own.”

“Michelle, that is sweet and generous of you, but you have to realize that your unconditional love for Precious stems from the fact that you love her father. It might not be the same with another random child.”

“I don’t agree with that. I loved Precious long before I knew I loved Erik.” She smiled. “He was a bonus, a sexy one. But I feel that God gave me a heart that can love any child who needs love. That is my special gift to the world.” She wrapped her arms about her stomach. “I want to give Erik another son of his own, though. Little Erik needs a brother, or two. When his father is away, he’s the only male in the house, and he’s always surrounded by girls when we get together with the other families. Jason is too old to be bothered with him. Eli is too young to play the games he wants to play, and Alex is still an infant.”

“Hmm. I never looked at it that way.” Felicia glanced at Philippe wading knee-deep through the water with his eyes closed, his arms outstretched, and making zombie noises, while the children scampered to keep out of his range. “Except for Philippe, he’s the only male in the pool. Maybe you need to put other kids on your playtime list, like Ethan’s little brothers, Neal and Sean. They’re around Little Erik’s age.”

“The Bennetts spend a lot of time in England. Little Erik needs brothers who’re with him all the time. An adopted one, close to his age, and one who is blood related.”

“My son is an OB/GYN, so I’m sure he knows of ways to increase the odds of his Y’s beating his X’s to your eggs.”

“Mom! Telephone.”

Michelle sat up and turned around to see Precious, a slender twelve-year-old, descending the steps leading from the porch off the first-floor playroom. She was a bubbling beauty in a pair of white shorts and a yellow top, and long curly brown hair tumbling down to her waist—a far cry from the gloomy seven-year-old little girl Michelle had met five years ago. “Who is it?” Michelle asked as Precious stood over her.

“I don’t know. She won’t give a name. She says she needs to speak to you or Dad.” She handed the phone to Michelle and sprinted over to sit on the edge of Felicia’s lounge. “What are you reading, Grandma?” She picked up the magazine and gasped. “Sweet!”

At least it wasn’t about Erik, or they won’t be asking for him
,
Michelle thought as she watched Precious flip through the magazine to find the article. And it wasn’t a staff member from her foundation in Evergreen or they wouldn’t be asking for Erik.

Michelle worried every time Erik was on a mission in a third-world country, especially those that were ravaged by war. He and his team from Doctors Abroad, an organization that serviced war-torn countries and those suffering from natural disasters, were currently on location in South America. Even though the country was politically stable as far as factious outbreaks were concerned, there were still a lot of things that could go wrong, like falling victim to insect and waterborne diseases.
Lord, keep them safe.
She raised the phone to her ears. “Hello, this is Mrs. LaCrosse.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. LaCrosse. This is Nancy Beck from Cape Hill.”

“Oh, hello. How are you?” She forced a smile at Felicia and Precious who were watching her curiously. Predicting it might be unpleasant news, she slid her feet into her sandals, descended the steps of the cabana, and walked along a cobbled path, lined on both sides with blooming flowerbeds and pruned shrubbery.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Mrs. Beck said.

Michelle’s steps faltered as she turned a corner and headed for the tennis courts that were out of sight and earshot of the cabana.
I really don’t want to deal with Sarah’s schizophrenia right now.
The last two times Cape Hill had called, her family had been put on an emotional roller coaster ride for months. It had drained them mentally and physically.

“Are you still there, Mrs. LaCrosse?”

“Yes. I’m here. What’s wrong with Sarah? Did she have another relapse?”

“I’m sorry, but it’s worse than that. Mrs. Turner passed away this afternoon.”

A knot formed in Michelle’s chest. She collapsed onto the picnic bench near the wire fence of the court. “We—we saw her two weeks ago, and she was in good health. What—what happened?”

“We won’t be certain until a pathologist does an autopsy. I’m guessing she might have suffered a stroke from cardiac arrest or a cerebral aneurysm.” She paused. “You were aware of the possible side effects from the antipsychotic drugs she was taking.”

“Yes we were, but we didn’t expect it to be so quick and sudden. Weren’t there any symptoms that she was in trouble? What about her alarm bracelet?”

“She didn’t sound an alarm.”

Michelle rushed her fingers through her short black hair. “Why wasn’t someone with her? Aren’t we paying for around-the-clock supervision?”

“Your questions are valid, Mrs. LaCrosse, but Sarah apparently died in her sleep. She had breakfast and lunch at the usual times today, and after a little socializing, she took her customary afternoon nap. Her nurse found her when she went to administer her medication. We tried to resuscitate her, but—I’m sorry.”

Michelle bit into her lower lip.
Poor Sarah, dying alone
.

“You can take some comfort in the fact that she probably didn’t suffer,” Mrs. Beck said.

“Where—where is she, now?”

“She’s still here with us. I’m calling for instructions from you and your husband.”

“Only my husband can make decisions concerning Sarah, and he’s not here. He’s out of the country. I expect him back on Friday.”

“We’ll keep her here until he returns then.”

“Thank you. I’ll try to call him, see if he can come home a day early.”

“There’s no rush, Mrs. LaCrosse. There’s nothing more your husband can do for Sarah. Because of him, the last three years of her life were filled with happiness and meaning. We really enjoyed having her here with us. And I must tell you,” she added on a choke, “she smiled for days after every visit. She carried Precious’ picture everywhere, and took pride in telling everyone that she was her grandbaby.”

That bit of information did ease Michelle’s sadness. Sarah had been living in Connecticut when Michelle joined the LaCrosse family as Precious’ nanny. Erik used to visit his former mother-in-law alone because Precious was too young to cope with the environment of a mental institution. A few years ago, when Precious began asking questions about her grandmother, Erik moved Sarah to a facility in Vermont—just a few hours away. Her mental state had improved significantly after Precious began spending time with her, so much so that they’d been able to bring her to the estate for Christmas and Thanksgiving a couple times. But then early last year…

“Mrs. LaCrosse?”

Michelle started at the voice on the other end. “Yes, I’m sorry.”

“Please accept our condolences.”

“Thank you. Thank you, Mrs. Beck. We’ll be in touch soon.” Michelle hung up the phone, took off her sunglasses, and let the tears flow down her cheeks. She wasn’t related to Sarah. She hadn’t known her that long, but she did know her, and that was enough for the dear woman’s death to affect her.

Michelle had no idea how long she’d been sitting there, but when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she didn’t need to turn around to know it was Felicia. It was quiet, so quiet, she could hear the leaves rustling in the trees above her. The raucous from the pool had ceased. She whipped her head around as her maternal instinct kicked in. “Where’re the kids? Where’s Fiona? Is Precious watching her?”

Felicia sat down beside her. “No need to panic, dear. Mrs. Hayes took Fiona into the nursery. Precious took off when Jason called, and Philippe and Catherine took the kids inside to clean up before they all head over to Mountainview Café for ice cream. I’m supposed to meet them there. Everything is being handled.” She placed her hand over Michelle’s lying on the picnic table. “Why were you sitting all alone out here crying?”

“It’s Sarah.”

“Hmm. I figured it was something like that when you left the cabana. Did she have another relapse?”