Quade's Babies(6)

By: Brenda Jackson


“Be realistic, Cheyenne,” her sister Taylor was saying. “Handling one baby isn’t easy and you have three. You’re going to need help.”

Cheyenne frowned. The problem she had with her family was the same one she’d always had. Being the youngest of the three daughters, no one wanted to acknowledge her capabilities. That was why she had left home after graduating from high school to attend Boston University and only returned for visits. On the advice of Taylor, who was the financial advisor in the family, she had purchased a home in Charlotte a few years ago as an investment. That purchase made it possible whenever she did come home for extended visits for her to have a private place to stay.

“And I will have help,” she said as she opened the refrigerator to pull out the salad she had made earlier. “My housekeeper will be there and I’ve hired a nanny for the babies to assist me.”

“But it’s not the same as having your family close by,” Vanessa replied.

Cheyenne closed the refrigerator door and then leaned against it. She studied the two women who were putting up a fierce argument as to why she and her babies shouldn’t return to Jamaica. Her sisters were beautiful, both inside and out, and although they were getting on her last nerve, they were the best sisters a girl could have.

Vanessa, the oldest at twenty-eight, was the one who after getting a graduate degree at Tennessee State had returned home to Charlotte to work at the family’s multimillion-dollar manufacturing company alongside their four male cousins—Chance, Sebastian, Morgan and Donovan. In June, Vanessa had married a wonderful and handsome man by the name of Cameron Cody.

Taylor, was the second oldest at twenty-six. Taylor had chosen not to return to Charlotte after college to work for the family’s company. Instead, Taylor had set her sights on New York after accepting a position with a major bank as a wealth and asset manager. Taylor was also married to a wonderful and handsome man named Dominic Saxon and the two were expecting their first child in a few weeks. Taylor and Dominic made Washington, D.C., their primary home, although they traveled quite a bit.

“You guys know how I feel about the two of you trying to mother me. I wish you wouldn’t do it,” she said, and immediately saw the guilt on their faces. Although she knew they only wanted what was the best for her, they were breaking a promise they had made on her twenty-first birthday, which was to let her live her life, regardless of the mistakes she would make along the way. They had pretty much kept that promise…until now.

“I know taking care of three babies won’t be easy,” she said. “But I’m determined to do it. Thanks to you, Taylor, I have enough money not to work for the next eight months or longer if I have to. The modeling agency knows my plans and is giving me the time I need. Besides, it’s not like me and the kids won’t come back for frequent visits. And I promised not to leave before your baby arrives, Taylor, so the two of you can relax. I don’t plan to sneak off during the night.”

She saw the reluctant smiles that touched their faces. Then Vanessa spoke and said, “I’m going to miss my nephew and nieces. I’ve gotten so attached to them.”

“Then I expect that you’ll come visit us often. Since Cameron purchased that house next door to mine, it sure makes things convenient.”

Vanessa laughed and shook her head. “Yes, it does.”

Cheyenne then stared at her other sister and figured something else was on Taylor’s mind. Typically, Taylor was the one known to stay out of everyone else’s business, mainly because she had this thing about anyone getting into hers. But lately, and seemingly with a lot of frequency, Taylor tended to ask questions that no one, not even their mother or male cousins or Vanessa—who sometimes acted as if it was her god-given right to know everything—would dare ask. Cheyenne had a feeling what was on Taylor’s mind and it wouldn’t be the first time during the past ten months that she had asked.

“Okay, go ahead and ask me, Taylor.”

Taylor frowned while absently rubbing her stomach. “Why? So you can tell me it’s none of my business again?”

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