“What’s for breakfast?” She rubbed her hands together as she walked over to the coffee pot. I’d made coffee earlier hoping to coax her out of her memories.

I repeated the proposed menu.

“Oh, yum. I love that. It’s my favorite. And my tomatoes are exceptional this year. I think it’s the beer I used on them. I read about it on Pinterest. Do you ever go on Pinterest? It’ll suck you in with its brilliant ideas.”

I’d heard of Pinterest but couldn’t say I’d browsed through the photos and ideas there. “No, but I know it’s popular.”

“It’s bloody brilliant,” she repeated with enthusiasm. “I bet you could find great ideas for cleaning, recipes, and the like. We should pull out my computer today and look at it together.”

“Okay.” I was grateful for something else to occupy my mind. I was desperate for anything.

“My friend, Beatrice, brought me some peppermint tea that I love. It can only be bought in England. I’ve tried a million different kinds here, but nothing compares. I even ordered some offline but it’s not the same. This tea”—she held up a mesh bag of tea leaves—“is perfection. Something about the motherland I guess. The British know their tea. We just know our Starbucks.” She sounded a bit disappointed. I knew she missed England. I thought it was because of her fond memories of her British friends that were gone from this world and of England that her mind always wandered back to that period.

“Do you want me to make you some tea to go with your breakfast?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Oh no. This is for tea time. It’s British, darling. We need to have it at three.”

She was teasing me, but then she was also serious. I poured her a cup of coffee instead. She had French coffee. As she swore by British tea, she also swore that the French were the coffee experts. I had to agree the coffee she had was amazing. There was nothing like it anywhere else.

“Where is my boy today? Haven’t seen him in week.” She changed the subject ever-so-subtly.

“He’s dealing with work issues.” I didn’t know how much she knew about Wills. I didn’t want to be the one to tell her the story. It was Stone’s to tell.

Geraldine took the cup of coffee I handed her and her lips pursed slightly. “He’s going to fight him, isn’t he?”

I wasn’t sure what to say here. I remained silent.

She let out a breath and tapped her fingertip on the counter. “I guess it’s time. That child can’t last the way Stone did. He’s not as tough.”

She walked toward the doors leading to the patio and said nothing more. I wondered what she knew. And if he had told her about Wills or she had just figured it out herself.

Again, I glanced down at my stomach and worried she may figure out my secret. What would I do if she did?

Stone

I MADE IT HOME BEFORE Beulah.

Relieved after not seeing her car parked, I took my time getting my paperwork together and made my way toward the entrance of the building. I didn’t want her to arrive home without me here again today. She seemed vulnerable last night and I wasn’t sure why. It felt like she was going to bolt at any moment but couldn’t make herself. With everything I had going on, I needed to make sure I found time for her too. I couldn’t always expect her to be there for me and not reciprocate.

A car pulled up as I was unlocking the front door of my building and I turned to see it was a white Lexus. Whoever it was parked directly in front of me. I knew that Lexus didn’t belong to anyone who lived here. Lifting my hand, I shaded my eyes from the sun to see who it was. Unfortunately, the tint on the windows hindered my view.

The driver’s door swung open and Hilda stepped out of the car. Hope, dread, and anxiety rushed through me at the sight of her. I wasn’t dumb enough to think she had a complete change of heart after I had left her in Chicago yesterday. Her showing up here meant something though. I wanted to believe it was to help her son. I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment.

She flipped her sunglasses up on top of her head and made her way toward me. Each step she drew closer I wanted to ask why she was here. Instead, I waited. I’d asked, begged, and done all I could to help her. It was far-fetched to think she was here for my help now.

When she was only a few feet away from me she stopped.

“I called Wills to tell him I had to change my plans and he started crying. Your father has given him a real beating because he asked to come visit you.” She paused and my hands clenched at my sides.

I’d hoped Wills would escape that. My plan was to get him away before my father thought he was old enough to hit. That day had come too soon.

“I won’t let him hurt Wills. He’s a kind child. I’m ready to help. He needs free of that bastard.”

Jumping on the first plane to New York to take Wills away was my first instinct. I knew I couldn’t do that yet. I had to wait until I had all the facts straight. Messing up by letting my emotions control me would give my father the upper hand.

“Come inside.” I turned and opened the door. Hilda followed me inside and we walked in silence up the stairs. I used every technique I’d learned over the years to calm myself. The rage boiling inside me was threatening to take over and right now I wanted to yell at the woman beside me. I was tempted to remind her that Wills wouldn’t ever have had to suffer at the hand of my father if she’d been the mother he deserved. But her selfish behavior and choices had led us here.

Opening the door to my apartment, I stepped back and waved my hand for her to enter.

“Wow, Winston this is something else. Gorgeous. Stunning.” Hilda was always impressed with material things.

“When did you talk to him?” I was not interested in talking about my apartment with her.

She turned and I could see the subtle change in her demeanor. It had all kinds of warning signs attached to it. She was imagining something that would never be again. I didn’t have the patience to deal with her stupidity.

“This morning around nine. I had gotten a call that woke me then changed my plans. It was important and I had to call Wills and let him know I would be there a day later than I had originally told him. He started crying so I thought he must be upset about something bad.”

“He was,” I stated.

She frowned. “Yes, he was. Anyway, he was crying. Upset. I calmed him down and we talked. He told me he wanted to come live with me.” She batted her lashes and I watched as she worked up fake emotion and tears. I wanted to believe that she loved Wills, but I was sure I couldn’t trust her. I also didn’t believe he asked her if he could live with her. He didn’t much like her.

“And if the results come back and he’s not mine, he’s my fathers. What then? Will you still fight for him?”

Her tears threatened to spill over. “Of course! He’s hurting him, Winston!”

I’d warned her he’d hurt him from the beginning. When I wanted to know if he was mine. When I was a kid and had no power. But she didn’t care then. “Why the sudden change of heart? This is something you’ve been warned about repeatedly.”

She wiped at the tears yet to roll down her face. “I didn’t believe you. Okay? I thought you were exaggerating or maybe you deserved what you got because you were a bad kid. I don’t know,” she trailed off. Sounding almost guilty for the words she was saying.