Page 90 of The Archer and his Rosebud

“Dammit. Don’t you understand? My parents will never allow that.” Ty curses as his stare darts away like he’s been caught.

“Your parents don’t have a say in this. They aren’t Clem’s parents. This is between you and me. That’s it.”

“My parents want access to their grandchild. You think they’re not going to fight you?”

Though I never met Ty’s parents during our time together, I spoke to Mrs. Reynolds on the phone and Facetimed several times. It was their vacation home we went to over the summer before we broke up. She seemed kind, and I thought she liked me. We discussed getting together often but never had the chance.

Checking the time on my phone, I slide back from the table. “I have to get to my next class.”

“We need to figure this out, Willa,” Ty calls as I back away.

“Oh, we will.” I toss a wave and keep walking. Ty didn’t want our child when I told him I was pregnant, and he didn’t want Clem after he knew I was keeping her. He’s not going to get her now that his parents decide he should have her.

* * *

When I toldTy we’d figure this out, I meantIwill. He’s no longer going to dictate the next steps. I will be in control. Unable to get a hold on my nerves enough to make it to class the following morning, I stay home to alleviate more anxiety. All I need next is a sitter for Clem.

“Willa?” Archer’s affectionate voice on the other end of the line fires off a longing pang through my heart.

“Hey.” I clear my throat of threatening tears. “I have a huge favor to ask.”

“Anything.”

“I have this…thing this afternoon.” Nervously, I tug at my freshly washed hair, looping a damp strand around my finger. “Would you mind watching Clem for a few hours? I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I probably won’t be able to pick her up until this evening.”

“Of course. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. No, it’s great.” I mean… it might be, it might not. “This thing just came up, and I can’t ask Ruby with it being a Thursday afternoon, she’s busy at the studio. And Nova’s still in school.”

“Drop her by whenever you need. I’ll be ready.”

Gah. This man. “Thanks, Arch. I’ll swing her by around one.”

When I dropClem off at his house, Archer unburdens her of her mittens, hat, and a layer of blankets before scooping her into his arms like he hasn’t seen her in years. Her pudgy hands latch onto his unshaven jawline as if the contact is second nature. Equal parts twinge and warmth infiltrate my chest. He doesn’t ask questions about where I’m going, and for that, I’m grateful. I have no idea the outcome of this meeting, and I don’t want to involve him until I have all the answers.

Holding Clem on his front porch, he lifts her wrist, helping her wave to me as I hop inside my car. The two halves of my heart fade in my rearview.

The hour and a half drive alone to Norwich is strange. It’s been so long since I’ve spent so much time alone. The drives to and from the ballet academy and university are nothing compared to this. And I wish I could say it’s relaxing, but I’m too anxious about finally meeting Ty’s parents to enjoy the peace and quiet the open road brings.

When I pull through the gates of the lavish Reynolds estate, while I’m in awe, I’m unsurprised by the grandiosity. They come from old money; Ty’s great grandad was governor of Vermont, and with Ty’s dad being a political strategist, I’d have been more surprised if their home was modest. The three-story mansion soars into the sky, surrounded by mature trees and landscaping. This place must be spectacular come spring and summer.

I take a couple minutes in the car, staring at the cement staircase leading to the glass double front doors. This visit has the power to make my life easier or exponentially harder. But for Clem, for me, for Archer, I have to see this through.

Once on the doorstep, I take a deep breath and ring the doorbell. The chime echoes, and within a minute, the woman I’ve seen through Ty’s phone screen opens the door beside an older, distinguished Ty.

“Willa, so good to finally meet you.” Mrs. Reynolds says one thing, but her eyes say otherwise. They’re skeptical, disguised in manners. “I was hoping you’d bring Clementine with you.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” I remove my leather gloves and tuck them into my purse, “but I really wanted us to have a distraction-free conversation. Something tells me we have a lot to discuss.”

“I believe we do.” She steps aside, and Mr. Reynolds greets me with an outstretched hand. “I can see why Ty was so smitten with you.”

I hold back my choked laughter. “And I see where he gets his charm.”

What the hell are you doing, Willa?Uncomfortable, much?

“I appreciate you agreeing to meet me on such short notice,” I say to their backs as they escort me into a formal living room, complete with a floor-to-ceiling bookcase and grand piano.

“May we get you anything to drink? You had quite the drive from Burlington.”

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