Chapter Twenty-Three
Grant
“We need to get up,” I mumbled into her hair.
“You first,” she challenged.
“I would, but my back is fucking killing me.”
“That’s because you were doing too much last night. I offered to get on top, but you refused. I guess it would’ve ruined your breeding fantasy.”
“I don’t have a breeding kink.”
Have I fantasized about what my wife would look like pregnant? More times than should be legal, but Kiyah was the practical one between us and insisted we wait until we finished law school.
“Sure, Grant,” she said, kissing my bare chest before rolling out of bed.
My eyes tracked her naked body as she entered the bathroom that wasn’t much bigger than a commercial plane’s lavatory. My dick lifted the sheet, and I was tempted to join her in the shower but resisted. Instead, I smoked a cigarette and considered what the next few months might look like for us.
Everyone in our family would know about us before noon.
The siblings would pester us non-stop. I wouldn’t doubt that Daisy and Nori would call from their honeymoon to be in on all the action.
Kiyah would come work at the firm, and I was 1000% certain Mom and Dad would want to arrange a reception for us.
Okay… maybe not that last part… at least not so soon. Come celebrate my children’s seven-year secret marriage to each other. Yeah, I don’t see that shit happening.
“Grant, what am I supposed to do about clothes?”
“I brought you a change of clothes.”
“That proves that you ripped my dress on purpose. That was a nice dress, Grant, and I could’ve worn it again for a special occasion. You should be more mindful of my clothes. I know you’re wealthy, but that doesn’t mean you have to be wasteful.”
She does the nagging wife thing so well.
“My bad, Nepo baby.”
“Nepo baby?” she screeched. She poked her head out of the bathroom and glared at me. “I know you’re not calling anyone a Nepo baby. Dad practically handed you the keys to the castle as soon as you crossed the stage!”
“There’s no need to be jealous, dear.”
She snorted. “Jealous? Of you? You can’t compete where you can’t compare,” she sang.
I raised a brow. “You think you’re a better lawyer than me?”
She grinned widely. “Give me five years, and I’ll show you.”
I chuckled as she sauntered off. I peeked at the alarm clock once more and cursed at the time.
7:27.
7:59
We collapsed in the armchairs in front of Dad’s desk and gave each other a congratulatory high-five for making it by the skin of our teeth. Dad breezed into the room with a cup of coffee and sat in his office chair. I smirked at his haggard appearance.
“Rough night?”
“You have no fucking idea. Let me give you two a piece of advice; it is okay to act your age,” he said, reaching into his desk drawer to retrieve a bottle of antacids.
He tapped three tablets into his hand before continuing with his sage advice.
“Also, never accept drugs from your children. I accepted an aspirin from Kieran and could smell colors for the rest of the evening. Warn your brother that I owe him an ass-whooping.”
Dad swallowed down his relief medication with his coffee and grimaced.
“Dad, I think you’re a little too up there in age to be trying to fight someone—especially Kieran. He kicked my ass,” I admitted.
He hummed in disappointment. “That had to be embarrassing.”
“How’s Mom? Is she joining us soon, or did she get smashed last night, too?” Kiyah asked.
“She’s a little worse for wear, but she’ll join us shortly. Shall we handle business first?”
Kiyah shifted in her seat nervously.
“I swear to God, Kiyah, I better not owe Dad more than a million.”
My head swiveled back to Dad when he barked out a laugh.
“A million… that’s comical.” He tapped at his keyboard, and my heart sank as page after page was spit out of the printer onto the tray.
“Kiyah, my darling daughter, would you be a dear and retrieve the documents for your old man?” Dad asked with a saccharine grin that could rival the devil.
“S-sure.”
She cleared her throat several times and scratched the back of her neck as she gathered the pages.
“Thank you, my darling daughter,” Dad said, accepting the sheets.
“I-I think I should check on Mom.”
“That’s not necessary. Please be seated,” he replied, stapling the pages together.
Kiyah took her seat, and he slid the hefty stack towards me.
I didn’t budge. “First, I’d like to congratulate the two of you on what I hope would be pure wedded bliss from here on out.
Second, you two should seek marriage counseling as soon as possible.
I don’t know what the hell happened that led to your separation, but I can imagine there is some lingering resentment on both sides.
If you don’t take care of it now, that resentment will fester, and eventually, you’ll call it quits again.
I can give you a recommendation for an amazing therapist. Lastly, Grant, don’t see this as a punishment but as me holding you accountable as a man. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Proceed.”
I snatched the document up and started flipping through the pages. What I found horrified me, and my frown deepened with each wire transfer. My eyes bulged when I reached the grand total.
“Kiyah… you… you gotta be fucking kidding me. What the hell?” My anger quickly switched to Dad. “And what the hell is wrong with you giving her all this money? You should’ve cut her ass off a long time ago!”
Dad shrugged. “How can you say no to a face like that?” he said mockingly.
I turned to Kiyah in my seat. “No, seriously. I need you to explain this shit. How the hell do you blow through two million dollars in seven years?! Two million one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to be exact?”
She shrugged. “To be fair, you probably would’ve spent more than that on me if we were together physically, so technically, I saved you money.”
“Don’t try to flip this in your favor, Ki,” I growled, snatching my checkbook out of my pocket.
“I’m not flipping it in my favor. I’m just offering a different perspective. You have the money, right?”
“Yes, I have the damn money,” I seethed.
“I thought I’d ask because—”
“Please stop talking. I need to concentrate on writing this ridiculous check to our father. I can’t believe you two,” I muttered. “And what does Mom have to say about this?”
“Your mother has never been concerned with the finances. She swipes her card and knows it’s there.”
“As she should,” Kiyah cosigned.
“Does Mom spend $300k a year?”
He snorted. “Easily, and Simone is to blame. She’s always abducting your mother and forcing her to go on these horrid girls’ trips and shopping excursions.
” It was my turn to snort. “Simone is such a bad influence,” he said teasingly.
“Kiyah, the printer.” I ripped the perforated check from the booklet and slid it to my father.
“Thank you. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
“Likewise,” I said with a petulant huff as he accepted the forms from Kiyah. He signed at the bottom with a flourish and slid the papers to me. I scanned them briefly and couldn’t believe what I was reading.
“W-what is this?”
“It’s a transfer of deed for your grandparents’ estate. You just purchased it for $2,150,000.”
Kiyah
What did he just say?
“I’m sorry, but can you repeat that?” Grant asked.
“You purchased your grandparents’ estate for a heavily discounted price. We’ll consider it a late wedding gift.”
I snatched the documents from Grant’s hands and read them myself. Sure enough, it was a buyer’s agreement.
“Why are you giving it to us?” I asked cautiously, wondering how our siblings would respond. Truthfully, I didn’t expect a big uproar, but I could see how they’d feel some type of way, especially since Grant inherited the law firm from Dad.
“Casey is a bachelor, and the estate is too big for him. Daisy and Nori are very attached to the residence that Anthony purchased years ago. Kieran would be too cheap to maintain the property taxes, and between him and Casey, they might turn it into the Playboy Mansion. Grant, you’re the eldest, and the estate should stay with the family.
Your grandfather would agree if he were of sound mind. ”
Grant remained speechless beside me. I could tell from the look on his face that he was trying to find the words to say, but they were stuck in his throat like a fish bone that refused to budge.
“Why the long faces?” Dad asked. “I thought you two would be ecstatic.”
Tears stung my eyes as I thought about how generous my dad had been over the years.
I was transported back to the day my mother and I moved in with the Bakers.
I was nervous but excited. I was looking forward to living in the big, fancy house with the enormous trampoline in the backyard and the freezer full of popsicles.
All the swirling butterflies in my stomach seemed to flutter away as soon as “Mr. Jonathan” greeted us in the driveway. He radiated with warmth, kindness, patience… safety—all the qualities Rory exuded. Something in my little soul told me I could trust him.
I didn’t know what to expect when Grant led me to my new bedroom.
My emotions hit me like a kick to the chest from a donkey.
It was overwhelming—the pink Corvette bed, the race track rug, the mountain of toys, and the street sign on the wall with my name on it.
And fuck if I didn’t bawl my little eyes out because all I could think about was how amazing my new room was and how I couldn’t share the moment with Rory.
Rory was gone, but I didn’t grow up without a father’s love because Dad had a well of love that overflowed when it came to me.
He taught me how to ride a bike and cared for the cuts and scrapes I earned when I thought I could be a badass and pop a wheelie.
He took us to a NASCAR race for my tenth birthday.
He stayed up late with me to help me with Pre-Calculus homework even though he had court first thing in the morning.
I called myself stupid for having to rework a problem repeatedly.
A little bit of Granddad came out of him when he scoffed and told me that no child of his was dumb and to gather myself and focus.
We wrapped up at 2:00 in the morning but were nowhere near ready to lay our heads down for the night.
We left a note and snuck out of the house for an early morning hot chocolate and pancake breakfast at a local diner.
He taught me how to drive and how to defend myself, and he attended every track meet.
And most of all, he taught me what it looked like when a man loved a woman unconditionally.
And as I sit here with paperwork clutched between my fingers for an estate valued at $50 million, I can’t think of one thing I did to deserve it. Especially after all the hurt and pain I put our family through.
“We can’t accept this,” Grant grumbled, cutting through my self-deprecation.
“Give me a good reason why you can’t,” Dad challenged.
A thoughtful look overcame Grant’s hardened features as he tried to come up with a solid reason.
“Maxwell, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.
Your grandparents aren’t returning home, and the house can’t sit there and rot.
I might be presumptuous, but do you plan on making me and your mother grandparents one day? ”
We peeked at each other before returning our gaze to Dad.
“We do,” Grant affirmed.
“Good. It’s a great place to raise a family—I can attest to that.”
Knocking on the open door interrupted us.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Mom said, sashaying into the office with Rob Zombie tucked under one arm and a cup of coffee in her other hand.
I smiled warmly at her appearance. Her hair was piled high on her head in a messy bun.
She wore a ratty band T-shirt with sweatpants she obviously stole from Dad, and she looked like death warmed over.
“You’re not interrupting, dear. You arrived just in time. Please, take a seat,” he said, motioning to the couch.
She paused and observed our shell-shocked and anxious faces. “What’s going on?” she asked skeptically, sinking onto the chocolate leather couch. The worry on her face was palpable, and I hoped and prayed we wouldn’t send our beloved mother to the hospital with our secret.
“I’ll explain in a moment, dear,” Dad said, rounding the desk to join her. “Grant?”
“Yes, sir?”
“You have pictures for me? Correct?”
Grant dug his cell phone out of his pocket and fumbled with it, dropping it once before picking it up and unlocking it with his thumbprint. He scrolled through his gallery until he found our wedding pictures.
“Here,” he said, handing the phone over.
“Thank you. Kierra, can you put your coffee and Rob Zombie down?” Dad requested, joining Mom on the couch. She didn’t hesitate to set her coffee on a side table and toss the cat on the floor.
“What’s going on, Jon?” she asked worriedly.
“What I’m about to show you may be shocking, but I need you to remain calm and open-minded.”
Dad flipped the screen towards her. Mom’s brow crinkled in confusion before sliding to the top of her forehead. Her eyes bulged cartoonishly, and her jaw nearly hit the ground.
“No,” she whispered. “This is a joke. Please tell me it’s a fucking joke.”