Page 77 of Deny Me
Charlotte’s heart sank at the formality in her mom’s voice, but determined to make this work, she squeezed King’s hand. “A Coke, Mom, please.”
King murmured a request for a ginger ale, thanking her mom warmly when she brought over his glass. She gave him a polite smile, handed Charlotte her Coke, then returned to her seat beside her husband.
Ben cleared his throat. “King, we want to express our condolences. Wes’s death was…a tremendous blow. We also know he was the member of your family you were closest to. We’re truly sorry for your loss.”
King eased back against the seat, his drink in one hand and Charlotte’s hand in the other. She didn’t miss his slight grimace when his back met the cushion, but he didn’t complain. He was too good at hiding his pain—she had a feeling she’d need to watch close to make sure he didn’t overdo. “I’m sorry for your loss as well,” he said, bringing her hand over to settle on his thigh. “You treated Wes like family. I’m glad he had you.”
His glance her way, including her in that last sentiment, made her heart ache. This man loved her, but he wouldn’t begrudge her anything that had gone between her and Wes. He didn’t resent her grief. He didn’t resent her for the years they’d spent apart.
She’d been given the most special gift when he came back into her life. She only hoped he felt the same.
King sipped his drink, settled it on his opposite thigh. “Ben…” He paused a moment, his gaze searching their faces. “Kim, I understand how you must feel about me. Charlotte has explained what happened, and I honestly cannot imagine what she went through. What she lost.” He cleared his throat. “I’m barely starting to understand whatwelost. But—”
Her dad held up a hand. “King…”
They waited, Charlotte with her breath held, for what he had to say.
“I agree,” he finally continued. “You can’t know what Charlotte’s miscarriage did to us. We mourned the future we had imagined, certainly, but more importantly we faced the very real possibility that our daughter would die. That isn’t something any parent should have to face.” A pause descended, and Charlotte wondered if he was thinking of Warren and Christy, of the loss of both their sons in one week. “Your…leaving…became mixed up with what we experienced as a family, right or not. But”—he took Kim’s hand—“we do know you didn’t cause what happened. It might take some time for us to work through that, but we know it nonetheless.”
King ducked his head. Would they ever be as close as they had once been? Looking at King as he processed her dad’s words, she wasn’t certain it mattered. The past was the past. They had to look to the future, and whatever relationship was built out of that, the important thing now was her and King.
“I appreciate that, sir,” King finally said, his tone and the expression in his eyes sincere. Her parents nodded in response, and Kim eased the conversation into less emotional waters as they sipped their drinks. Not long after, Ruth called them in to dinner. The housekeeper’s glare when she looked at King was weaker than before, Charlotte noticed, and another knot in her stomach loosened. They ate, the tension of the past week dissipating into something almost congenial, and by the time she and King left the table, Charlotte felt hope budding.
It was good to feel hope again. Good to look to the future, not be in bondage to the past. And speaking of the future…
They returned to Charlotte’s floor together and walked down the hall to the guest suite. Charlotte knocked, waiting for Becky’s call to enter.
Inside, the lights were dim, only a couple of lamps illuminating a half-finished dinner tray on the coffee table and blankets, diapers, wipes, toys and more scattered around the room. Becky paced the length of the living area with Sophia on her shoulder. The baby had tears on her face but seemed to finally be sleeping. Becky gave a tired chuckle as they came in. “She only wants to sleep when I’m standing up.”
Charlotte’s dismay kicked up. She’d been sleeping and Becky had needed her. But it was King who arrowed directly for the new mom and baby. “Let me,” he said. Charlotte wanted to protest that he should rest, but the steel in his face as he scooped the baby off Becky’s shoulder and transferred her to his own kept her quiet. He wanted to help; she wouldn’t deny him that.
Becky sagged with relief and joined Charlotte on the couch. After the mutual “how are yous,” Becky picked at her dinner, both of them following King’s progress as he paced with the little one.
“She’s darling, Becky,” Charlotte said.
Becky watched a bit sourly as King eased into a nearby armchair without Sophia making a peep of protest. “I think so too, when I actually sleep.”
Charlotte laughed. “I think that’s pretty typical for new moms. Ask for help. Mom is here, and so am I.”
“You need to recover,” Becky protested. “But I will. Kim is here often.” She hesitated. “She’s hiring a nanny.”
Charlotte had discussed it with her mom and thoroughly approved, but Becky’s tone told her she was uncertain about the fact. “Does that bother you?”
Becky shrugged. “Shouldn’t I be able to do this on my own?”
Charlotte started to protest, but King pre-empted her. “No, you shouldn’t. Moms shouldn’t have to do this on their own, Becky.” His big hand covered Sophia’s entire back where he held her in the hollow below his collarbone. “Some do, but the people around you are in a position to help you, so why shouldn’t we make this easier? Sophia won’t love you less, and you won’t be miserable with fatigue and worry. That’s the best baby gift anyone can give.”
“The nanny will be here a few hours a day so you can get schoolwork done and nap if you need to,” Charlotte added. “She’s here to help, not take over. I think once you get used to it, you’ll be able to relax. Besides, Mom and I will be in here plenty to steal some time with Sophia too.”
Becky grinned. “Kim says I can’t be greedy since I get to do all the feedings now that Sophia is nursing well. Kim wants rocking time.”
They talked a bit more, long enough that Charlotte glanced over finally and saw King with Sophia still on his shoulder, sound asleep in the chair.
“They’re cute, aren’t they?” Becky teased.
“They are.” Maybe it was the painkillers making her tired, but tears sprang to her eyes at the sight.
“Maybe that will be King and your baby someday.”
