Page 133 of The Pact
Presley smiles through her tears. “She’s very persuasive, like a tiny attorney.”
That draws a laugh from Evelyn.
I lean forward, resting on my elbows. “You can have that. I want you to have that. But I need them to have stability too, and despite your concerns about my career, I can give them that.”
Dennis looks at me then and nods once.
“Let’s make a calendar,” he says.
I feel like all the air in my lungs whooshes out of me.
Evelyn grabs his hand tightly.
He exhales slowly. “I’ll call our attorney and stop contesting the guardianship.”
Presley’s hand tightens around mine.
“Thank you,” I say, letting out a breath I feel like I’ve been holding since January.
Dennis nods stiffly. “Just don’t shut us out.”
“I won’t.”
“If we feel like it’s not working?—”
“You can call me anytime, Evelyn,” I say. “Or you can call Presley. We’ll talk and figure it out together.”
Evelyn reaches across the table with a shaky hand.
I cover it with mine.
“We want them to be happy,” she whispers. “And they very clearly love you both.”
I look out the window in time to catch Remy tackle Rhyan into the grass. She immediately pops back up and holds her arms in the air.
“They are happy,” Presley says. “And Saint has a great bond with them that goes beyond being the fun uncle. They look to him when they’re sad or need to talk. Remy watches his every move. And he talks to them about Savannah and Chris and encourages them to remember their happy family moments.”
“That’s all we want,” Dennis says. “We never wanted to rip them from another home or schools, and they already call your house home. Seeing them this weekend, we can see how loved and well-cared for they are. So, thank you. Both of you, for taking care of our grandchildren.”
I look at Presley and see she’s watching the kids, too, her hand still around mine.
And for the first time since we lost them, it feels like maybe we’re not building a battle plan. We’re building a family.
We get back to the house, and I notice Rhyan has smeared frosting on her cheek.
“Did you sneak a cookie before you left?”
Her eyes widen. “No.”
“You didn’t eat a cookie?”
She shakes her head dramatically. “No.”
“Rhyan, you have frosting on your cheek. He knows you ate one.” Remy rolls his eyes.
“Okay, fine. I had one.”
I raise my brows.
