I nodded, silently. About a year after Robert took over as CEO at Townsend, Robert Sr. had a second stroke that ultimately killed him. Carter and Aaron weren’t even one when he died.
“I noticed then my father had trouble reading. I thought it was due to the damage from the stroke. The doctors had told me as much to my face, but one day I overheard a doctor telling him that the stroke hadn’t caused damage to that part of his brain. Later on, his assistant had informed me that she’d always recorded meetings for my father so he could listen instead of having to read notes. Little things like that started to mount, and I put two and two together. He didn’t abuse Jason simply because of his poor reading abilities. He did it because he hated and was ashamed of his son who’d inherited what he had.” Robert turned to me, his eyes full of sadness. “And Jason did the same thing to Aaron.”
Reaching over, I rubbed Robert’s shoulder in an effort to comfort him. I knew he was hoping that he could take those painful memories away from Aaron, because I was wishing the same thing.
“He has us now,” I stated firmly.
Robert nodded, just before our ringing doorbell caught both of our attention. Robert peered down at the watch on his wrist.
“That’s Thiers,” he informed me.
I nodded, knowing Robert’s good friend, Thiers, was coming over to Townsend Manor to have lunch with Robert.
I followed him to the door, stepping back as he pulled it open. A smile blossomed on my lips at the sight of the man who I knew was one of my husband’s closest confidants. Thiers’ dark brown eyes wrinkled at the edges as he smiled.
“Thiers,” I greeted.
“Hi,” a soft voice returned, startling me.
I lowered my gaze and my heart squeezed in my chest. Standing in front of Thiers, barely reaching his knees, was a little girl with the cutest afro pigtails, tied with red ribbons that matched the red and white romper she wore. Folded in her tiny, walnut-colored arms were two books, which she held firmly against her chest.
“I hope you don’t mind. Our nanny had a family emergency and had to leave for a few days, so I had to bring my daughter.”
“Of course we don’t mind. I could use another lady in the house with all of these boys running around.” My heartstrings pulled with sadness for Thiers. He’d been deeply in love with his wife, Jeanette, who I’d met on a number of occasion rights after Robert and I had Carter. We’d became fast friends. Almost four years ago, when Jeanette became pregnant, we were thrilled for the couple who’d had the most difficult time conceiving. Unfortunately, Jeanette died during labor, leaving Thiers to raise their daughter, Patience, on his own. He rarely brought her out with him anywhere, however, opting to allow the nanny to care for her much of the time.
“Come in,” Robert added, widening the door.
“Robert, you and Thiers can go out to the deck to have your lunch. Patience can remain with me.” I crouched low, next to the little girl, who stared up at me, wide-eyed. “Is that okay, sweetie?”
She nodded.
“Thanks, princess,” Robert said, pressing a kiss to my cheek before showing Thiers off in the direction of the back of the manor where our huge patio was. I’d already set out sandwiches and salads for them to eat.
“What books did you bring with you, sweetheart?” I questioned Patience while leading her toward the den where the boys were playing. All except Tyler, who was upstairs napping.
“Dr. Seuss.” She proudly held up the books for me to see. DisplayingThe Cat in the Hatalong with Dr. Seuss’ABC: An Amazing Alphabet Book!. Abruptly, her direction turned from me to the couch where Aaron was still lounging, staring at the television.
Before I knew what was happening, she moved from in front of me, her little legs carrying her over to the couch. Placing the book down first, she climbed up, directly next to Aaron, and slid over close to him. Just when I parted my lips to tell Patience not to get too close to him, he looked down at her and lifted his arm, making room for her at his side.
I blinked, taken aback by the move. I didn’t know if I should pick Patience up or not. Aaron hadn’t been the friendliest person to anyone in the house in the four months he’d moved in with us. In fact, just earlier that day he’d almost gotten into a physical fight with Carter, who’d mentioned something about a book report that was due at school.
“Read,” Patience demanded, holding one of her books out to Aaron.
My heartbeat quickened. Reading more than anything was a sore spot for Aaron.
I took a step forward to intervene, but stopped. A feeling that I needed to let this play out without my intervention overcame me.
I watched as Aaron shook his head slightly. “I don’t like reading.” His face held a scowl, that even at eight years old looked intimidating.
Patience gave him a funny look, as if she didn’t quite understand what he’d said. Or if she couldn’t comprehend how anyone didn’t like reading. “Okay,” she shrugged and said.
I thought she would eventually move over or go on her way, but again, I was surprised.
“I read to you,” she stated proudly.
Aaron watched her for a moment, contemplating something, before he said, “Okay.”
His voice was gruff—as had become his normal sounding self—but he adjusted, placing his arm against the back of the couch, and letting Patience move onto his lap so they both could see the book.
