Chapter 1786

Seven years later, the Potter Mansion hummed with quiet joy.

Debra and Marion's married life settled into a peaceful groove. Friends dropped by now and then, chatting about business rivalries or family quirks.

One day, the grown-ups gathered in the front hall, planning an afternoon trip to the cemetery. Original content can be found at find(ɴ)ovel.net

In the back garden, seven-year-old Lillian swung on the swing set. Eight-year-old Solomon pushed her from behind.

Lillian chirped in her sweet, childish voice, "My dad and mom said we're going to see Uncle Andrew this afternoon. Do you think he'd like my black dress or the red one?"

Solomon kept pushing. "Doesn't matter. He can't see it either way. Go with black. My mom says you wear black to the cemetery."

"But he told me he liked me in red."

"Dead people don't talk."

Solomon matured faster than most kids. He had to, with parents like that.

Ever since he could remember, his mom and dad acted like overgrown kids. They'd sneak out for barbecues while he slept and confiscate his snacks to munch in their room. And they liked sleeping in.

He'd climb onto a stool to cook breakfast himself.

Randy called it training to build his independence. It was ironic since Randy couldn't even boil water.

Erica smothered him with kisses when she felt like it, then ignored him the rest of the time.

At eight, Solomon already felt weathered. He cooked, cleaned, and studied all by himself. And he took care of his parents.

Compared to Lillian's life, his was a mess.

"I'm not telling you, but this is my little secret with him," Lillian said, making a face.

"Kids, come on. We're heading out," Debra called out, waving from the yard.

They bolted from the swings.

"Mommy." Lillian raced into Debra's arms.

Debra scooped her up effortlessly. Erica hollered, "Solomon, come over."

Solomon sighed, wondering when his mom could be as gentle and normal as Lillian's.

She always yelled like some roughneck. He couldn't figure out why his dad fell for her.

"You little brat, your mom's waiting," Randy barked.

Erica whacked the back of his head. "Don't be so rough in front of the kids."

"I didn't," Randy yelped.

Jordan grabbed the car keys and headed out front.

Liza showed up. Seven years apart, her ponytail was now a sleek bun. Still unmarried, she'd made a name for herself as a hotshot lawyer overseas.

"I'll take Theda's car," she said.

Oscar and Chace had come too. They had gone ahead to the cemetery with Drake and Juan.