Building blocks by desig.., p.19
Building Blocks (By Design Book 7), page 19
“Laura, and yeah he does,” Shell answered.
“Coop? Do you have a girlfriend?” she teased. Cooper’s confusion was evident. “I mean do you love someone?” she tried a different approach.
“Mommy,” he answered thoughtfully. Shell smiled. “And Momma.”
“Yeah, well, don’t tell them but I love them too,” Shell said.
“Who does Marianne love?” Cooper asked.
Shell sighed. Melanie looked at her sympathetically. “I’m going to find my mom and see if I can help her with dinner while you and Coop chat.”
“Mel?” Cooper looked at the other woman.
“Yeah, Coop?”
“Mommy says I get another sister.”
“I would love to be your sister,” Melanie told him.
Cooper smiled. “That’s fwee! Fwee sisters like fwee mommies,” he observed.
“I guess it is,” Melanie agreed. She winked at Shell and headed off to find her mother.
Shell turned her attention to Cooper. “Coop, are you worried about Marianne?”
Cooper nodded. “Evewybody loves somebody.”
Shell had to close her eyes for a second to gather her emotion. It had not escaped her notice that Cooper had become emotionally attached to Marianne. At first, Shell had felt a small pang of jealousy watching her older sister with Cooper. Somehow, Shell understood it. At times, Marianne could come across as abrasive, even judgmental. There was no way that Shell could deny the reality that Marianne had softened measurably over the last few years. And, while Shell knew that few people looking in would believe it, she worshiped her older sister. Marianne for all of her bravado at times, for the many squabbles and the incessant teasing between the sisters, Marianne had always been Shell’s best friend. When push came to shove as it often did in life, Marianne in many ways was Candace’s true kindred spirit. Marianne was a devout protector. She could also be the most nurturing person Shell had ever known. It was a part of her older sister that long had been reserved for private moments. Recently, that had begun to change. Cooper loved everyone in the family. Shell knew that, but like Candace and Jameson, he saw Marianne as his protector. Shell and Jonah were his friends. Shell smiled at her little brother. Looking at Cooper as he looked at her with such deep concern for their older sister, Shell began to realize for the first time who Marianne was in their family. Jonah and Shell had always been close friends, but Shell seldom cried on Jonah’s shoulder. Marianne was four years older than Shell and nearly eight years older than Jonah. Marianne was not simply their sister; she was often their caretaker.
“Coop, Marianne loves all of us.”
Cooper considered Shell’s words. “But everybody has someone.”
Shell nodded. It had not escaped her notice that Cooper often quietly observed his new family. She often enjoyed watching him when the family was gathered together. Most evenings when the family sat together, Cooper would sit in Candace’s lap and watch and listen quietly, many times until he fell asleep against their mother. Shell had immediately been struck by the four-year-old’s intelligence and thoughtfulness.
“Well,” Shell began again. “Grandma Pearl doesn’t have someone.”
“She’s Grandma,” Cooper gave his explanation.
“Oh? So? Your Grammy has your Grandpa. And, you know, Coop—Mom is a Nana too.”
“Yeah. She’s Spence’s Nana.”
“Yes, she is and she even though she is a Nana she is still a mom too, and she has your momma to love,” Shell tried to explain. Cooper sighed. “Coop, Marianne loved someone very much for a long time,” Shell said. “He was Spencer’s daddy. But he is…”
“He’s with my other mommy in heaven now. Marianne said.”
Shell pushed back her tears and smiled. “I imagine that he is…Watching over all of us with your mommy.”
Cooper smiled. “Evewybody should get somebody,” he declared.
Shell nodded. “Well, maybe someday Marianne will find someone. Don’t worry so much about Marianne, Coop,” Shell told him. Cooper looked at her quizzically. “Marianne is happy right now loving all of us, I think,” she said. She laughed and pulled Cooper into her lap. “Besides, Mom doesn’t need to pay for any more weddings right now.”
Cooper did not understand why Shell was laughing, and that made her laugh harder. “Shell?”
“Yeah, bud?”
“How many can you have?”
“How many what?” Shell asked.
“People.”
Shell closed her eyes and pulled Cooper closer. His innocence astounded her at times. “As many as you want, Coop. You can love as many people as you want to love.”
“You can have five sisters?’
“I sure hope so,” Shell said. “I mean, you have Laura too.”
“That’s four,” he giggled.
“I’m not a very good counter am I?”
Melanie walked out onto the porch and smiled at Michelle holding Cooper protectively.
“She’s good with him,” Melanie’s mother commented from over her shoulder.
Melanie nodded. “She’ll be a great mom someday.”
Melanie’s mother smiled. “Get her to the altar first,” she laughed.
Melanie chuckled. “After what it took to get this ring? You’re not kidding.”
***
Candace collapsed her face into her hands for a moment, feeling emotional and mental exhaustion creeping through every fiber of her being. With a deep breath, she made her way to her feet, grabbed her suit blazer from behind her chair, closed her eyes and took in a deep breath for courage. She looked at the pictures sitting on the corner of her desk and smiled. Seeing the faces of her children and grandchildren always managed to help Candace muster the strength to push forward. Her lips curled into a loving smile as she lifted a small photo that Marianne had recently given her of Marianne holding Spencer and Cooper on her lap. Candace closed her eyes for one final moment.
“God, help me get through this day,” she mused as her hand reached for the door.
With one last deep breath, Candace emerged from her office and offered an encouraging smile to the group gathered just a few steps away. She was keenly aware of the stress level that permeated her staff currently. In two days, several major issues came across the governor’s desk. The most troubling had been the train derailment of the Metro-North line. The train service enabled millions of people to travel in and out of New York City. People were dependent on the service and companies were reliant on the people who traversed the rail system each day to keep them in business. In the end, even physical tragedies morphed into economic realities. For Candace, that reality shifted in less than a second. She would never be afforded the time to process and grieve the human loss the way most could. She was the public face of possibility and promise. It was Candace’s duty as governor to speak with compassion and authority, to instill a sense of confidence in the people she had been elected to serve. There was no other option. And, right now an exterior of assuredness was exactly what her staff needed as well. Times like these required a leader, not a boss. Candace made her way to the staff, their expectant gazes meeting the compassionate and composed gaze of Governor Candace Reid.
“It’s a new day,” Candace told her team. “Forward. That is the only direction we can go.” She nodded to the group, sensing their lingering doubt. “Let’s go. Follow me,” she directed them. “Officer Evans,” Candace greeted the young State Trooper, “we have someplace to be.”
Dana watched as Candace followed Drew Evans down the hallway of the State Capital. Lieutenant Governor Dan Moore stepped up to walk beside Dana. “She seems to have it all together this morning.”
Dana smiled and turned to Moore. She had known Candace for many years, and she had been granted glimpses of the governor that few in Candace’s professional circle ever had. It had taken some time for Dana to understand that her friendship with Candace was a rarity. Candace was friendly toward everyone, even most of her adversaries and detractors. She kept many people in her professional life at arm’s length personally. Friendliness and friendship were not the same things. In time, Dana had come to realize that Candace respected Dana as a member of the team, but Candace also thought of Dana in many ways as one of her children. Dana did not share a close relationship with her parents. Dana had struggled when she first began working for Senator Candace Fletcher. Candace had pushed her. Candace had tested her. Candace had also nurtured her. At some point—Dana had yet to be able to pinpoint when—the dynamic between Dana Russo and Candace Fletcher had shifted. Dana had become Candace’s confidante both in and out of the office. And, Candace had become far more than a mentor to Dana. She had become the mother figure in Dana’s life. Dana shook her head affectionately as she trailed behind the governor.
“She’s cried her tears,” Dana told Moore knowingly. “Now, she’ll dry all of ours.”
Dan Moore looked ahead as Drew Evans opened the car door for Candace. “I’ve never seen her cry. Teary, maybe…but…”
Dana nodded. “That’s not a luxury she’s ever been afforded out here,” Dana said. She turned to Moore. “Tears down your cheek in front of the cameras make you appear sympathetic. For her?” Dana caught Candace’s gaze momentarily before Drew Evans closed the door. “For her, it is still seen as weakness,” Dana explained. “Doesn’t mean that she doesn’t cry them. She’s probably cried more than all of us put together,” she said as she exchanged a smile with Candace in the distance.
“You look up to her,” Moore observed.
“Yes,” Dana replied. She turned to Moore. “And, I love her.”
***
“Jay Jay?”
“Yeah, Spence?” Jameson glanced into the rearview mirror.
“Where’s Coop?”
“Coop is with Aunt Shell and Aunt Mel. Why? You bored with me already?” she teased him.
“Just me and you?” Spencer asked.
“Yep. Just me and you. I thought you could help me with some work and then we will go someplace special and have dinner.”
“Can we find Nana?”
Jameson smiled. “Yes, we can. We’ll find Nana and then all three of us will go out for a pizza before Cooper comes home.” Jameson glanced in the mirror again and caught Spencer bouncing in his seat sporting a brilliant smile. She chuckled. She had missed these moments.
“I stay all night?” he asked.
“Yep. You and Coop can have a sleepover in his room.”
“We can build anudder fort?”
“I guess we could do that,” Jameson replied.”
“You, me, Coop, and Nana.”
Jameson couldn’t have wiped the silly grin off of her face if she had wanted too, and she had no desire to.
“Nana builds good forts, Jay Jay.”
“Oh? Better than mine?” Jameson tried to ask seriously.
Spencer considered his answer. Jameson looked in the mirror and suppressed a laugh when she saw the looks of consternation on his small face. She was confident that she knew what Spencer’s answer would be.
“Nana knows how, Jay Jay.”
Jameson finally lost all hope and laughed. “I guess, she does,” Jameson agreed. “Maybe I should ask her to teach me, huh?”
“Yep.”
Jameson kept laughing as she drove. She’d seen the fort that Marianne and Candace had helped the boys build a week earlier. By the time Jameson made her way into the room the next morning, the makeshift fort was a dilapidated mess of blankets and sheets. To the boys, it was a castle, their very own hide-a-way. Both Spencer and Cooper had prattled on about their adventure with Marianne and Candace the entire morning. Jameson was fairly sure that she could spend the evening constructing an extravagant structure in Cooper’s bedroom, and it would still somehow fail to measure up to the lopsided mess of blankets that Marianne and Candace had erected. Spencer and Cooper’s joy was not about the fort. Spending that time with Candace and Marianne together had been the best adventure either could have asked for.
Jameson glanced back one more time. Looking at Spencer as he studied the buildings outside the car window, Jameson felt an enormous wave of gratefulness pass through her. She had arrived at the house in Schoharie earlier than she had expected that afternoon. Pearl had taken Spencer with her on a walk with Maddie so that Marianne could pack. It had given Jameson some one on one time with Candace’s daughter. Jameson found herself replaying that hour. She and Marianne had begun with a rocky start. It seemed nearly impossible for Jameson to believe the way their relationship had changed—how much Marianne appeared to have changed. More and more, Marianne reminded Jameson of Candace. A few years earlier, Jameson would not have imagined that.
“Jay Jay?”
“Yeah, Spence?”
“Will I get anudder?”
“Another what, buddy?” Jameson inquired.
“Daddy,” Spencer explained calmly.
Jameson’s heart rose into her throat. Spencer’s question was understandable, but it was not a question that Jameson had expected. She sometimes forgot how thoughtful both Spencer and Cooper were. Both boys posed questions that frequently surprised Jameson. Cooper and Spencer were both observant and articulate. She often wondered what conversations the toddlers had when they were alone. Candace had recently commented that the two boys behaved more like curious six or seven-year-old children than small toddlers. Jameson had wondered why. Candace had explained her theory.
“Loss,” Candace told Jameson. Jameson sighed. “I think so,” Candace continued. “Loss and change. They had both been surrounded by adults more than children until they found each other,” Candace pointed out.
Jameson thought for a moment about how she should respond to Spencer’s earnest question. There had been lots of discussion about Cooper’s ability to have three mothers. It was natural that Spencer would begin to think about the possibility of having another father.
“I don’t know, Spence,” Jameson finally answered truthfully. “I hope that maybe someday you will,” she told him.
“Mads too,” he murmured.
“Yes, buddy, Maddie too,” Jameson agreed. Her thoughts turned back to the conversation she and Candace had about Spencer and Cooper. Eventually, the topic of conversation had wound its way to Marianne.
“She’s different now,” Jameson observed.
Candace smiled. “Not really, she just isn’t as guarded about showing who she is.”
“I don’t follow,” Jameson confessed.
“Marianne has always tried to be Shell and Jonah’s big sister.”
“She is their big sister.”
Candace laughed. “Yes, but she took that role seriously.” Candace turned slightly somber. “She’s always sought to be a caretaker. If I think about it, that started after Lucas. She tried to be my caretaker before she was even three.”
Jameson took Candace’s hand. “Candace…”
“It’s okay,” Candace said. “That’s how life works. Marianne could see my sadness. Some things you can’t hide no matter how hard you try, Jameson. Children are intuitive, far more intuitive than their adult counterparts,” Candace said. “They haven’t unlearned that. They are free to feel and free to think. They don’t feel restricted in their curiosity so much.”
“And, Marianne?”
Candace shrugged. “I think she watched me more carefully than I gave her credit for,” Candace answered honestly. “And, I think she saw my many faces.”
“What are you talking about?” Jameson wanted to know.
Candace sighed. “Many faces, Jameson. We all wear at least three, the one we show most of the world, the one we reserve for the few that we trust, and the face we wear when we are alone. Marianne saw all of mine when she was very small. I think she tried to emulate that in some way. She tried to grow up so that she could take care of me, help me take care of the other two. She tried to be in control. Life has a way of teaching you that you are never really in control,” Candace explained. “That is only another face you wear.”
Jameson replayed those words in her mind. Marianne hadn’t changed, Jameson now realized. Candace’s oldest daughter still sought to be a protector, to be in control. Jameson could see that clearly. Something had changed—Marianne let Jameson see the face that was reserved for only those Marianne trusted the most. That realization hit Jameson like a ton of bricks falling forcefully onto her. For a split second, she felt breathless. Marianne’s ability to accept Jameson into her personal space was a far more precious gift than Jameson would be able to articulate.
“You know, Spence,” Jameson began. “Your mom is a pretty special lady.”
Spencer beamed. “Yep.”
“She loves you a lot and maybe one day she will get a chance to love someone else again like she loved your daddy.”
“You loved Daddy too.”
Jameson nodded. “I did love your daddy,” she said. “He was a good friend, and he made me laugh a lot.”
“Daddies are silly.”
Jameson agreed. Her father often made her laugh. “If we are lucky,” Jameson said as her thoughts momentarily shifted to Laura. “If we are really lucky, Spence, our daddies will be silly.”
“I hope my udder is silly too.”
“Well, I hope one day your mom finds someone to make her laugh too.”
***
“Sit down,” Candace instructed the group gathered in the large conference room.
Candace’s patience was beginning to wear thin, and it was only one o’clock in the afternoon. She had spent two hours visiting with the families who had lost loved ones in the train accident and with some of the injured passengers. She had assured them that she remained committed to her infrastructure plan. The project to strengthen the bridges, pitted roads and declining neighborhoods across the expansive state had been a cornerstone of Candace’s campaign for governor. It had not been conceived as political folly. Candace believed passionately that investing in programs and initiatives to improve and rebuild areas and services would reinvigorate the state of New York’s economy. She believed that infrastructure in many ways held the key to unlocking the state’s full potential.
