Angela was grateful; she knew she’d see Jennie again at the ceremony, and Cameron Adair, too.
All this, of course, new management had been brought in—Kylie would work closely with them.
Jackson had just started to relax.
Then Angela admitted that it was time to go to the hospital.
Victoria Sophia Crow was born at 11:50 P.M., born on the 4th of July.
She was beautiful, with a nice fuzz of her dad’s dark hair, great big light eyes, eight pounds two ounces and twenty-one inches long.
Angela had been right; she had been in good health and had been active up to the end—not particularly in a way Jackson would have liked, crawling through a tunnel—and her labor had been relatively easy.
Corby was brought in as soon as possible after the birth; he held his little sister. Angela hugged him and the baby and had him lie with her.
Jackson thought how much he truly loved his wife.
And his son and daughter.
He frowned when Corby got up and stretched and said that he wanted to find a machine and get a soda, if they didn’t mind.
They let him go, but Angela looked at Jackson.
“Follow him, Jackson. Please.”
He nodded, knowing what she feared, and he headed out after Corby.
Corby was standing against the wall by the soda machine.
“Hey, kiddo, what’s up? I thought you had a few dollars on you, but I can put a credit card in that machine.”
“Thanks.”
“Are you okay?” Jackson asked.
“Sure. I—she’s beautiful. She’s a beautiful baby. Perfect.”
“We’re thankful,” Jackson said. He put his arms around his son. “And you know what? I can’t tell you how thankful we are for you!”
Corby looked at him.
“You saved your mother and your baby sister,” Jackson said.
“I just . . . you saved them,” Corby said. “Well, Mom is amazing—she took care of Merissa Hatfield. But then you were there, you found them.”
Jackson shook his head. “I wouldn’t have been able to save them if it hadn’t been for you. Son, you’re a hero. You saved your mom.”
Corby winced. “I would do anything for her. I . . . she has so much faith in me all the time, and she’s so good to me. And you, too! You’re the best. I’m so grateful. You’ll never know, because, of course, I’m not little, I’m ten, and I know how the world can be. But . . .” He looked up at Jackson, anguish in his eyes. “But now you have your own real baby, and . . .”
Jackson pulled the boy into his arms. “Corbin Crow! We’re going to love our little girl, your little sister, with everything in us. But we love you with everything in us, too. We never thought we’d have children, years went by. But then we were double blessed. We adopted you, and we found out we were going to have your little sister. Love doesn’t need to be biological Corby. You are my son. I was able to choose to be your father, and I have never been so grateful for a choice in my life. I will be your father even when you’re a grown man. I’ll punish you if you misbehave; I’ll try to teach you right from wrong. You’ll be furious with me at times. I’ll be angry with you. But that will never mean I don’t love you—nor will it ever mean I’m not your father in every sense of the word.”
Corby leaned against him, into his chest, and Jackson smoothed back the boy’s hair. Corby was crying; he realized he was crying, too.
They stayed that way as long moments passed.
It was a night to bond with his new baby, Jackson thought. But it was a night to bond with his adopted son as well.
“Hey! Let’s get your soda and get back to your little sister and your mom again—she’s going to be worried about you,” Jackson said at last.
“I know,” Corby said. “She will. Because she’s the best mom. And now I have a sister!”
Corby looked up at him. “You will always be her big brother in every way, too, Corby. You’ll look out for her, and she’ll look up to you.”
“I’ll make sure she has something to look up to!” Corby promised.
“I know you will,” Jackson said.
He smiled. He wondered if there were still fireworks going off.
They were going through tough times. Covid19, economic hardship, looting, bad things—but good things, too, peaceful protests to bring many things to light that too many people just hadn’t seen.
And he believed in the American dream. Yes, it was a dream that needed constant work and attention. They still strived for equality for all.
But love was the greatest emotion humanity had been offered. For him, love often showed the way.
And tonight . . .
His beloved Angela was alive and well and doing great.
He had a wonderful son, brave and determined, hurt, but so capable of caring and giving and love.
And his daughter . . .
Born on the 4th of July!
Yes, life could be hard. But the hardest parts could also teach one how to value all that was beautiful.
It was one hell of a day to celebrate!
Social distancing, of course!
About The Author
Heather Graham
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Heather Graham, majored in theater arts at the University of South Florida. After a stint of several years in dinner theater, back-up vocals, and bartending, she stayed home after the birth of her third child and began to write. Her first book was with Dell, and since then, she has written over two hundred novels and novellas including category, suspense, historical romance, vampire fiction, time travel, occult, sci-fi, young adult, and Christmas family fare.
She is pleased to have been published in approximately twenty-five languages. She has written over 200 novels and has 60 million books in
