Chapter 57 Chapter 57
Richard nodded, crossing the threshold into the studio, a space he had rarely entered during the dark years of Dianne's grief. "When I called. She answered with 'Hello, Richard, I mean father.' It was... unexpected."
Dianne set down her pencil, understanding the weight of those simple words. "She's trying to find her place in all this. To honour both families."
"She's remarkable," Richard agreed, moving to stand beside his wife. He studied the exhibition layouts with genuine appreciation, noting how Dianne had given equal prominence to Iris's designs and her own sculptures. "The Metropolitan Gallery called again. They're eager to confirm the exhibition dates."
"Three weeks from now," Dianne said, her voice firm with decision. "Iris said she can manage it alongside her finals, and I don't want to lose this momentum." She gestured to the sketches surrounding them. "For twenty years, I couldn't create anything. Now it's pouring out faster than I can capture it."
Richard placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, the familiar gesture carrying two decades of shared grief and newfound hope. "We'll make it happen. Whatever resources Iris needs to balance this with her studies, they're hers."
In the Maxwell home, Leo was helping Carol prepare dinner, the kitchen filling with the comforting aromas of her freshly baked bread. They wanted to do something nice for the boys after a long day of school, considering how much had changed for them all. Leo and Carol had taken time off from their jobs, and their bosses understood, given the media frenzy surrounding their adopted daughter. Throughout the day, they had been taking phone calls from family members who had always joked about Iris being the long-lost heiress, trying to see how she was taking it that it wasn’t a joke after all.
"We're just getting calls from everyone," Carol said, sliding the roast into the oven. "My sister called three times today. Remember how she used to joke that Iris was secretly a princess? She's beside herself now."
Leo chuckled despite his fatigue. "Your mother left four voicemails. I think she's already planning to tell everyone at her retirement community that her granddaughter is a Lawson."
Carol wiped her hands on a dishtowel, her expression growing more serious. "How are you really feeling about all this, Leo? About the weekend visit?"
Leo paused in his vegetable chopping, the knife hovering above the cutting board. "Honestly? Terrified. Walking into that mansion, meeting the people who should have raised our daughter..." He set the knife down and turned to face his wife. "But also grateful. They could have handled this so differently, Carol. They could have tried to push us aside."
"Instead, they paid off our mortgage and set up college funds for the boys," Carol finished softly. "I keep thinking there must be a catch, but Theodore seemed so genuine."
"That's what got me too," Leo admitted. "None of them felt... calculated. Just grateful. And they clearly adore Iris."
At the Kennedy penthouse, Helga paced before the floor-to-ceiling windows, her reflection fragmenting across the city skyline below. Julius watched her from his desk, his expression carefully neutral as she reviewed the Lawson statement for the fifth time.
"This is masterful PR," she muttered, scrolling through her tablet. "Acknowledging the Maxwell family's role, positioning the whole thing as a joyful reunion rather than a kidnapping investigation. And that mention of Tony..." Her voice hardened. "Our son is being used as a convenient narrative device in their story."
Julius set down his pen, studying his wife with a mixture of concern and resignation. "Antony made his own choices, Helga. He recognised the girl's talent, pursued her, and inadvertently helped reunite her with her birth family. That's hardly being used as a narrative device."
Helga turned sharply, her perfectly styled hair swinging with the movement. "Don't be naive. The Lawsons are using this connection to neutralise any leverage we might have had. 'Antony Kennedy, who recognised her extraordinary talent', they're positioning him as the discerning suitor who saw her merit beyond her circumstances."
"Perhaps because that's exactly what happened," Julius suggested quietly.
Their conversation was interrupted by Simmons, Helga's head of security, who entered after a discreet knock. "Mrs Kennedy, we've received confirmation that Antony will be attending the weekend gathering at the Lawson estate. The Maxwell family will also be present."
Helga's eyes narrowed at this information. "So they're consolidating their forces. Bringing everyone together under their roof, where they control the environment." She tapped her manicured nails against her desk.
Tony would have known by now that his mother would have heard about him joining both of Iris’s families for the weekend at the Lawson estate, so he thought it was wise to give them a call.
Tony dialled his father's number first, knowing Julius was more likely to have a reasonable conversation than his mother. After three rings, his father answered.
"Antony," Julius said, his voice carefully neutral. "I was hoping you'd call."
"I'm sure Mother has already heard I'll be at the Lawson estate this weekend," Tony replied, pacing his apartment. "I wanted to explain my decision directly."
In the background, Tony could hear his mother's voice, sharp with demand. Julius must have covered the phone because the sound became muffled before he returned.
"Your mother would like to speak with you," Julius said, resignation evident in his tone.
Before Tony could respond, Helga's voice cut through the line with surgical precision. "Antony, this charade has gone far enough. The Lawsons are using you to legitimise their narrative."
Tony suppressed a sigh, having anticipated this exact response. "They're not using me, Mother. I'm going because Iris asked me to be there when her families meet. Both of her families."
"And you don't find the timing suspicious?" Helga pressed. "The moment this girl discovers she's a Lawson, suddenly you're invited to family gatherings?"