Nolan was having a hard time taking it in. Questions shot off in his head, one after the other.
“We’re really related to those Fortunes?” Belle asked, echoing one of his queries. “So...like...what—the Fortunes of Texas are our cousins or something?”
“Yes, but they don’t know that,” Miles said in a rush. “Grandmother and Grandfather Barrington don’t even know. We’re nothing like those other Fortunes...”
Nolan’s mind spun. The Fortunes had been in the news two years before as a reporter followed them around. Jerome Fortune, another one of Julius’s sons, had been living under an assumed name—as Gerald Robinson; he’d built a tech empire in Austin, Texas. And, like his father, he had fathered a lot of children—both legitimate and illegitimate. They’d been finding each other over the past couple of years.
And one of them—an architect from England—upon finding out he was a Fortune, had moved to Texas to help his newfound brother find the rest of their siblings. That architect was Keaton Whitfield...
“Lizzie has a roommate who is a fifth year architect student interning with one of Jerome’s illegitimate sons—Keaton Fortune Whitfield.”
Every head swung his way. It struck him then that their guests would be arriving soon to find the host family sitting at the table with their mouths open staring at each other. Nolan couldn’t shake the mental picture.
He’d like to find a way to edit himself out of it. But he was in too deep. Permanently in. This was his family.
And he’d just brought the attention back to the fact that he, like his grandfather before him apparently, had sired an illegitimate child.
“Nolan, you get yourself back to Austin and let that family you’ve started know that they are a loved and accepted part of this family. Find a way to get them home to us.”
His father was demanding the impossible. This wasn’t the dark ages where he could go grab Lizzie and haul her off to his cave. But he’d just been granted the one thing he’d wished for for Christmas—a ticket back to Austin to be a part of Stella’s first Christmas. With his family’s blessing.
“Can I take the private plane?” he asked his father.
“Just make sure you have her on it with you when you come home,” Miles said.
“And please don’t say anything about your father, about the Fortunes, until we’ve had a chance to let your grandparents know,” Sarah said, which was the official “this talk is over” signal.
His six siblings started talking at once. All with questions directed at Nolan.
But he stood up. He had a flight to arrange.
Chapter Twenty
Lizzie had a text from Nolan on Christmas Eve telling her that he’d arrived safely. She wished him a happy holiday.
With Christmas music on, she and Carmela wrapped presents most of the evening, even wrapping up the things Nolan had bought for the baby that she hadn’t yet worn or used, so there’d be loads of packages under the tree for pictures. She wanted her little girl to know, when she looked at the photos of her first Christmas, that she was greatly loved and showered with gifts.
She only had a couple of pictures of her own first Christmas but the tree had been overflowing, in spite of her parents’ modest lifestyle, and she’d known her entire life how much they’d celebrated her, loved her, wanted her. Those little gifts, sometimes just the socks and underwear she needed, had meant more to her than any of the fancy, expensive toys the Mahoneys had bought for her.
Carmela got a call sometime after ten, and when Lizzie got up to turn down the music so she could hear, she shook her head and went back to her room. Stella, who’d fallen asleep in her swing, woke up soon after and Lizzie sat in front of the lighted tree, bows and tinsel glistening, as she fed her daughter.
She missed Nolan. Horribly. And yet...she was so
lucky, she reminded herself. Had so much more than so many. She could do this. She could be a single mom. Raise Stella with or without Nolan coming for visits. In his house, in a home he’d provide. She just hadn’t figured out how to stop loving a man who was so unsuited to her.
Hadn’t figured out how to have him around and not fall further in love. Or need him more.
Wiping away the stupid tears that had been slipping out on and off throughout the day, she burped Stella, changed her and put her down in her Pack ’n Play.
“Go to sleep, little one, and Santa will come to bless you with miracles,” she whispered, words that came to her from the distant past. She’d forgotten that her mom used to say those words to her on Christmas Eve.
So much of the years with her parents were pushed deeply inside her, not allowed out, for fear that they’d crush her with sorrow. As a kid, pushing away the memories was the only way she’d been able to cope with the loss of her family and somehow the practice had become habit until she didn’t even know she was doing it anymore.
But having Stella, being a mom, was bringing it all out. Maybe more quickly than she was ready for.
Back out in the living area, she made her and Carmela cups of tea, and then, in red flannel pants and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, she sat barefoot on the couch with all of the lights off but for the Christmas tree that put out a colorful glow. She’d turned the music down some, but left on the Christmas tunes and waited for her friend to join her.
“Is Stella down for the night?” Carmela asked, coming out in her pj’s a few minutes later.