Mother-son Books Novels & Stories

Clear, correctly deployed, looking at the books about his grandfather with the specific focus of someone who has made a connection and is naming it. I sit very still for a moment. "Yes," I say. "Those books are about Grandad. He is in them." Robert looks at the books for another moment. Then he goes back to his board book with the composed manner of someone who has filed a piece of information and is ready to proceed. I sit in the reading chair in the east-facing room with the morning light going across the floor and I let the moment be what it is. My son said my father's name while looking at the books that exist because of him. He said it with the calm accuracy of a child who has been give

Alex said and walked away from Joanna. She walked gently and sat close to Serena. "How are you my dearest twin?" Miles and Lara were both stunned to see Alex talking to Serena, and acting all nice. "What are you up to bitch?" Lara muttered ~~~~~~~ I got out of the restroom and saw my mother talking to a few of our business partners. "Hey, son. Meet Mr.Greg, he is one of our top clients." "You're welcome Mr. Greg…" I said and we continued our conversation.

I kissed my son on the cheek and kissed my mom next. "Please take good care of him, he shouldn't take too much sweets, he should practice his Violin, he shouldn't watch too much TV nor should he play too much games." "Calm down," My mom placed both of her hands on my shoulders making me look in her face. "I've been a mom before so I know how to take care of kids, look how good I raised you. You are a beautiful intelligent woman.So trust me when I say that I can take care of my grand son."

Dakota runs into the room, followed by Tyler and Sarah, who are running much slower. "Mommy, you have to see my room. It looks really neat," she says excitedly. I rub my hand over her head. Courtney and I have this in common: we're single mothers who will do anything and everything for our kids. Jordan and Bobby stand in the doorway, looking at us. The men who have come into our lives and made our families complete are an added bonus. I think we're all going to be one big family after all this is over. We all just have to stay alive.

During that first week, my three sons kept coming over to look for me. Ryan showed up at the gate, shouting, "Mom, I was wrong! I'm on the verge of bankruptcy! Lend me some money to get through this. Otherwise, my whole family will starve!" I watched him shake the gate from the window, the metal clanging loudly, and felt nothing. A few days later, Victor came with Molly. Molly wore a dress and sang the nursery rhymes I had taught her, breaking into tears after a few lines and crying out, "Grandma!"

"How could you do this, Penny?" My mother hisses through her sobs, the sound raw and broken, each gasp like a physical blow. Gayle stands beside her, aggressively wiping at her own face, her movements sharp with anger and disbelief. Carlos holds her from behind, his grip tight as if he’s the only thing keeping her upright. My father lies in a coma. Zayne’s legs are shattered. The doctors say it will take a miracle for him to ever walk again. All because of a crash on the way back from the airport, a stupid accident that shouldn’t have happened. I’ve never felt more horrible in my life, a hollow, nauseous pit where my heart should be.

Now, he finally wanted to be here with his son, but he couldn't find him anywhere. Bruce sagged to the ground on the side of the path, burying his face in his hands. He was just now realizing that some wounds don't just fade away. They're recorded, one by one, tallied up like a debt. Waiting for the day it all comes due, with interest. As evening fell, he saw a mother and son by a restaurant. The mother wore a white shirt; the pup had a blue backpack. They looked just like Avril and Leo from behind.

He was sitting on the carpet and rolling a small ball back and forth with another child, his face so bright and carefree. My heart softened immediately, I crossed the room and scooped him into my arms and buried my face in his hair. “Mommy!” he giggled. “I played all day!” “I know, baby,” I whispered. “I know.” Now this… this was real, not some boardrooms, power, not even Ethan Blackwood. My son wrapped his arms around my neckband at that moment, I remembered exactly why I had survived everything. As we stepped into the elevator together, I held him close.

He‍ fl‌ips slowly through the⁠ worn pages o‌f Matthe⁠w’s fa‌vorite b‌ook, reading quietly about the silly adventures of a loud, mis‌chievous puppy. My heart stutters pain⁠full‌y in my che‍st. It‌ feels like it might sh⁠attered or maybe it alr‍eady has, this cannot be r‌eal. My son should not look like t‍his beside a‌ man li‌ke him. He should not b‍e soothed by a mobster’s voice, lulled into safet⁠y by‌ hands⁠ that have known violence and yet… he is.

I hated this house before I even stepped through the front door. It’s one of those glass-and-steel mansions that feels more like a museum than a home. Cold. Empty. Expensive. Just like the man who bought it. My mom thinks I’m here because I want to "bond." That’s the word she kept using in her emails. Bonding. In reality, I’m only here because if I skipped this trip, I’d be the "difficult daughter" for the rest of the year. My mom has been singing about this camping trip for months. A one-day road trip, two days in the woods. Sounds like a dream if you like nature; sounds like a nightmare when you have to do it with Draco and his son.