“Hey,” I said, practically launching myself at him in a hug.
He froze for a second, probably in shock, but then his long, strong arms closed around me. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my face to his chest.
“Why them?” I whispered, so softly that only he could hear me. “They were the best people I knew.”
Wes rested his cheek on the top of my head. “I know. I’d take his place if I could, in a second.”
I pulled away and straightened myself, taking another deep breath.
“Patrick and Susan wanted me to stand in the receiving line with the family,” Wes said. “I thought I’d stand here so I can help with Anna peas if you need a break.”
Annalise laughed and said, “Uncle Wes, I’m Annalise.”
“Anna freeze?” he asked her, expression serious.
She smiled wider than I’d seen her smile since I got here five days ago.
“No, it’s Annalise, Uncle Wes.”
“Ah, Anna bees. I’ve got it now.”
He reached down and picked her up, setting her on his hip and joining the receiving line. Annalise put her head on his shoulder as we greeted people coming through the line. There were hundreds. The visitation had been scheduled for four hours, but we were already two hours into it and there were hundreds of people waiting.
I wanted to run away and hide. All I could think about was being alone so I could cry. I’d stand here, though, for as long as it took. And tomorrow, I’d dress Annalise in the little black dress and shoes someone from the Mavericks organization had been nice enough to have sent from a local boutique, and we’d go to her parents’ funeral.
Somehow I knew there was no imminent need to grieve for Ben and Lauren, because the heavy sadness would be there waiting. It would wait a long, long time. Grief was a patient, potent bitch that I’d get to know extremely well in the days and months to come.
“Can you hurry this along?” Susan Whitmer asked as she stood and rocked Benny in her arms in the crowded conference room. “We have a long trip ahead of us, and I want the kids to be able to nap on the plane. I’m trying to keep Benny on a routine schedule.”
Ben and Lauren’s attorney, Len Harris, peered at Susan over the dark rim of his glasses.
“The will has to be read in its entirety, Mrs. Whitmer,” he said.
Rolling her eyes, she said, “Okay, if you could maybe just read it faster.”
Benny squirmed and let out a wail.
“Want me to take him?” I offered, standing up from my seat at the large conference table.
“No, thank you, I’m fine.”
I’d only gotten to hold Benny once, for around twenty minutes, in the week I’d been staying at Ben and Lauren’s house. Susan was monopolizing him, and even though I knew it was helping her grieve, I was a little put off that those of us who loved Benny and wouldn’t be seeing him for a while weren’t being given a chance to hold him, feed him and talk to him.
Len Harris cleared his throat and continued reading.
“As to the care of their minor children, Annalise Hadley Whitmer and Benjamin Weston Whitmer, custody is to be shared by Weston J. Kirby and Hadley P. Ellis. Mr. Kirby and Miss Ellis may decide between them which will be the permanent guardian of their children. Financial—”
“WHAT?” Susan yelled, her mouth open and her eyes wide with horror.
Benny startled at the sound and his cry was the only sound in the room. I felt like someone had slapped me. I was breathless and slightly dazed. I met Wes’s gaze across the table and saw that he was just as dumbfounded as I was.
“Patrick, do something,” Susan begged her husband. “We’re taking our grandchildren home today.”
Len Harris furrowed his brow and said, “I’m afraid that’s not possible, Mrs. Whitmer. Ben and Lauren left a letter for you to explain the reasons for their decision. They also left letters for each of their children and for Mr. Kirby and Miss Ellis.”
“I don’t care what their reasons are. We’re Annalise and Benny’s family. They’re our grandchildren. And we will fight this with everything we’ve got.”
“You can do that,” Len Harris said. “But in the meantime, Annalise and Benny are going to—” He looked down at the paper in front of him. “Weston Kirby and Hadley Ellis.”
“The kids don’t even know them!” Susan shrieked. “This is madness! I’ve taken care of Benny every second since I got here.”
Len Harris locked eyes with Patrick Whitmer. Patrick nodded, his expression somber. He approached his wife and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Susan, we have no choice but to comply for now.”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. I closed my eyes, understanding her sadness and trying to process what the attorney had just read in Ben and Lauren’s will.
I was hoping she’d left me her favorite UCLA sweatshirt. Maybe some photos of us or one of her favorite vases. When I was told my presence was required at the reading of the will, I had no idea Ben and Lauren were leaving their children to me.
I locked eyes with Wes across the table again. He looked just slightly less shell-shocked than a few seconds ago.
“Susan, we have to give Benny to them,” Patrick said in a coaxing tone. “It doesn’t mean we’ll never see him and Annalise again.”
Len Harris cut in. “There’s a provision in the will that states you get the children for two weeks every summer and that you be allowed to see them on holidays.”
“I can’t do that,” Susan said, weeping. “I can’t.”
Patrick managed to lift Benny from her arms, and started to carry him over to Wes.
“Wait,” Susan cried. “Wait…just a second. What if they don’t want them? What if Wes and…whatever her name is don’t want them? Can we have them then? We’ll pay if we have to.”
Len sat back in his seat, looking like he hadn’t even considered that.
“We’d have to revisit the issue then.” He looked down at the will again. “Mr. Kirby and Miss Ellis, do you want permanent custody of Annalise and Benny Whitmer?”
Did I? I’d never even imagined this situation possible until less than five minutes ago. I lived in a small studio apartment in Manhattan. My whole world would change if I had Annalise and Benny.
But Ben and Lauren wanted me to do this. Well, me and Wes. I looked over at Wes. I still wasn’t sure how this was going to work, but most likely, he would let me have the kids. He was a professional hockey player, and he didn’t have time to raise them.
Wes looked up and met my stare as he said, “Yeah. I want them.”
“I do, too,” I said.
Susan’s wail of defeat cut deep.
“We’ll fight you,” she said softly.
She looked exhausted. I imagined that between the loss of her son and caring for Benny, she was spent in every possible way.
“We won’t shut you out of their lives,” I said, the words coming out automatically. “You can come and visit them, and not just for holidays.”
“Yeah, we want you to stay in their lives,” Wes said.
He stood as Patrick passed Benny to him. Wes did a surprisingly good job taking over, holding Benny close the way I knew he liked to be held.