Hudson(80)

But not as thrilling as life with Alayna. I tuck away the newfound information and turn my attention to her. Loading my fork with a piece of my crepe that doesn’t have any mushrooms, I offer her a bite. Her lips slide along the silver, and all I can think about is how beautiful she looks when her lips curl around my cock.




“Divine,” she says.

“I could say the same thing.” I’m not subtle about my meaning.

Madge reddens and clears her throat. I guess I’d spoken louder than I’d meant to. Oh well. Maybe this will make her forget her silly ideas about me marrying her daughter. Though whether it does or not, I’m not really concerned.

Talk turns to Mirabelle’s pregnancy. The whole table joins in. It’s hard to ignore the excitement of a new baby. I know this from experience.

Also from experience, I recognize the tension in Mirabelle’s voice when she suggests hyphenating the baby’s last name to Sitkin-Pierce. It’s a ridiculous idea, and I know she’s only saying it for my mother’s benefit. Even more ridiculous is how my mother makes Mirabelle think she needs to say it.

“It’s not the same.” At least Sophia isn’t encouraging the idea. “Sitkin-Pierce is not Pierce. So the bloodline continues, but not the name.”

It’s that one statement that makes me fear for this conversation. If I know my mother—and I do—it won’t be pretty. I watch the pieces line up for the accident that I’m certain is about to take place: Adam reminds us that Chandler could have a Pierce child. My father slips in his doubt that Chandler really is a Pierce.

Then Sophia says it, the thing I’ve been dreading. “Hudson and Celia’s baby could have been both.”

It’s at this moment that I realize how my lack of emotion has enabled me to survive a life with my mother. Her drunken antics, her caustic comments, her cold indifference—none of it has ever fazed me. They’ve skimmed off the surface of my shields, leaving only faint scuffs and shallow dents.

Now, though, with Alayna in my life, my armor is down. And I feel every hit.

I’m angry. She has no right. She’s not only hurting Alayna but Mirabelle and Celia. Probably the Werners as well. While my mother can’t know all the memories and pains that she dredges up with this casual statement, she isn’t so ignorant as to not realize its inappropriateness.

I plan to say something, but I want to be in control of my rage before I do. I’m unused to having to rein in emotion, and it takes me a minute. Meanwhile, it’s my father who speaks out. “Not this again, Sophia. Really? Goddammit, I won’t listen to this.” He tosses his napkin down and stands. “Thank you everyone, I wish I could say it has been a lovely evening, but, well, I’ll leave it at that. I’ll take care of the bill on my way out. The rest of you stay and enjoy. Order dessert. As for my wife, I’m not going to invite her to rot in hell, as I probably should, because I think she already lives there. At least hell is where anyone who spends time with her feels like they’ve been sent.”

My father’s outburst surprises everyone. For me, I find that within the surprise is lucidity. Jack hasn’t had the emotional shelter that I have had. Perhaps I’ve placed too much blame on him for my mother’s behavior. Maybe it’s her that drove him to infidelity in the first place. Maybe the situation is more complicated than I’ve realized. Even with all my study, I couldn’t realize how easy it was to get hurt and be hurt in a relationship until I was in love with someone myself.

Sophia’s unaffected by his departure. “What a drama queen.” She takes a bite of her food. “I was merely pointing out that we had a chance at a Pierce grandchild and now it’s gone.”

Adam makes a snide remark, but I don’t pay any attention. I’m collected now. I’m ready to have my say. “I could have a child with Alayna.”

Admittedly, the main purpose of my comment is to goad my mother, but it doesn’t change its truth. I’ve never given much thought to children except for that brief moment of time that I almost became the father of Celia’s baby. I’ve had no desire to continue my line, and, to be fair, I’m sure my mother had understood that about me. It’s likely encouraged the notion that her one and only chance to have a Hudson Pierce child has slipped away. Babies were not in my future.

Now, with Alayna, it’s suddenly possible.

Without looking at her, I sense her astonishment. She’s not the one I meant to shock, and I feel a bit guilty. This should have been a conversation first discussed in private. A second rush of fury washes over me at being put in this position in the first place. I smother it by focusing on my plate, taking another bite of my dinner.

Despite the unfortunate timing of my declaration, it hits its mark. “Are you talking marriage and children already? It’s early for that, Hudson. Incredibly early.”

“Oh Mother, don’t be so old-fashioned. You don’t need to be married to have children.” I take a swallow of my wine. “And what Alayna and I are discussing is frankly none of your business.”

Sophia’s eyes narrow. “You brought it up.”

“I was stating that I could father a child, and that would continue both your precious bloodline and your precious name.” I’m calm, in control, even as I reveal myself. “And the only person I could ever imagine wanting to have a child with is Alayna.”