After the Eldest Grandson Took Mother's Name, I Restored the Illegitimate Son

The old man was dying, and that was the moment his daughter-in-law chose to change her mind. Mom, these days it's reproductive freedom. I'm still willing to have a baby at all, so the Henson family ought to count itself lucky.

Besides, I'm the one going through the trouble of carrying this child. Why should it take your family's name?

I was quiet for a moment, then looked at my son. "Is this what you think too?"

He gave a careless shrug. "Mom, don't be so backward about it. Whoever it takes after, it's still your grandchild."

I didn't say a word. If that was what they wanted, fine.

The old man's illegitimate son knelt outside the hospital room all night. When I came out, he shuffled forward on his knees. "Mom, my name is Henson!"

I threw off his hand in disgust. "But you are not my son."

He knocked his forehead hard against the floor. "Mom! My child will carry your name!"

My husband was dying, kept alive by a million dollars a day in drugs, all so he could lay eyes on the grandson about to be born.

My son and daughter-in-law came off the elevator, and I stopped them. "How did the checkup go? Is the due date still next week?"

My son nodded. "Wednesday. I'll take Margery Taylor up in a bit to check her in."

I nodded, relieved. The old man had waited so long for this child.

"Your father says the baby should be called Nolan Henson. He wanted me to ask if the two of you had any other ideas."

I looked up. The two of them hemmed and hawed for a long while and gave me no answer.

Margery elbowed my son. He kept his head down and said nothing.

So she pushed him aside outright, one hand braced on her belly as she stood in front of me. "Mom, Nolan is fine, but not Henson. The baby takes my name. Nolan Taylor."

I froze for a second, sure I'd misheard. "Whatwhat did you say?"

"Mom, everybody respects reproductive freedom now. When we got married I said I wouldn't have children. Now that I'm carrying a Henson baby, your family should be counting its blessings, not nitpicking over whose name the child gets."

The smile on my face went stiff. "Margery, he's my only son. The old man has been living just to see this grandson born."

She sneered, one hand on her lower back, and cut me off impatiently. "Mom, talk like that and there's no point. What century do you think this is? Does your family have some throne to hand down? And I'm my parents' only daughter too. If the baby takes my name, isn't it still a Henson child either way?"

She turned and called out to the people in the hallway. "Everyone, tell me if I'm wrong. Isn't that just common sense? Mom, you can't come at me like this."

"This is my own body. I have the right to decide what name the child takes. You're only my mother-in-law. Know your place. The worst thing a person can do is not know where they belong."

The onlookers stood around, chiming in, enjoying the show.

"She's overstepping a little, honestly. What century is this?"

"Men and women are equal now. Why should a child a woman carries take the man's name? Girl, well done! You do us women proud!"

I had no heart left just then to argue with any of them. I didn't add a single word. I only looked steadily at my son.

"Is this what you think too?"

He sighed, irritated. "Mom, all these people are watching. Aren't you embarrassed? Drop the old-fashioned act. Taylor or Henson, it's still your grandchild, isn't it?"

I nodded. "All right. Whatever the two of you decide."

I turned and went into the hospital room. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the two of them slapping their palms together, thrilled. "Yes!"

The lawyer stood respectfully at the foot of the old man's bed. As I came in, both of them looked over at me at once.

The old man asked weakly, "What did Margery say?"

"They agreed to the name Nolan."

Hearing that, he nodded and let out a breath, then lowered his head to the will again.

Then I said, "But the child takes the Taylor name."

I sat at the edge of the bed and felt the old man's breath catch.

When I looked at him, his face was worn thin, but his eyes were oddly cold.

Right on cue, my phone buzzed. A message from my son.

Mom, talk Dad down, don't let him get worked up. Once the baby's born I'll bring the child to see him.

I replied: No need. Bringing a child with another family's surname would only send your father to his grave with his eyes open.

Then his voice message popped up, thick with agitation. "Mom, will you ever stop? Margery was there earlier, so I held back and let it go, gave you some face! What does it matter whose surname the child takes? You and Dad have this one grandson, and you'd really refuse to claim him?"

I turned the volume up a little. "You two shouldn't be such old fools. Once the baby's in your arms you'll love him more than anyone! And when you want to see him, I'll be the one charging you for it. Oh, and since Margery's giving you a grandson, what are you and your father sending over? A yacht? An estate? Grandparents shouldn't be so stingy. Think it over."

When the message finished playing, no one in the room said a word.

Two minutes passed. The old man coughed, then tore the will in his hands to pieces.

His face flushed red with anger as he pointed and instructed the lawyer, "Then there's no need for all that trouble. When I die, every piece of Henson property, every share, all of it goes to my wife."

"Mr. Henson, nothing at all for the young master?"

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. "I don't have a grandson."

I sat at his bedside all night. Eight critical-condition notices came through before dawn, and it wasn't until morning that he finally steadied his breathing.

When I stepped out of the room, his illegitimate son was kneeling outside the door.

"Mom..." He caught my sleeve.

Without a second thought, I pulled free in disgust. "Don't go claiming ties that aren't there. You can eat whatever you like, but you'd better watch what you say."

"Mom, my surname is Henson. Whether you claim me or not, I'll take care of you in your old age."

I let out a cold laugh. My own son was a useless thing; why would I pin any hopes on somebody else's child?

Besides, from the very start, I'd never felt any warmth toward him.

"You're clever. A pity you're not my son."

Rex crawled toward me on his knees. "But Mom, my child can carry your Harding name!"

He knocked his forehead hard against the floor, and his words filtered through my mind one at a time.

A grandson taking his mother's surname had never bothered me much.

His father, though, had waited too long for this child.

From beginning to end, what I'd been angry about was my son's lack of respect.

It was only a surname. I couldn't understand what the two of them, father and son, were fighting over.

But now, all at once, I understood them a little.

I lowered my eyes to the man on the floor, and suddenly this child pleased me a great deal.

"Your name is Fred Fred Rex, is that right?"

He knocked his head to the floor three more times. "My son can carry the Harding name too."

I paused for a beat, then laughed out loud.

True or not, it was a nice thing to hear.

"I can't tell whether what you're saying is true. What about marriage? Have you settled that?"

Rex shook his head honestly. "Not yet."

At that, the little warmth I'd felt cooled again.

Of course. At my age, I'd seen every kind of person there was.

As worthless as Fred was, I'd carried him ten months and given birth to him.

Rex, when it came down to it, was a mistake the old man made in his youth. And besides, I didn't much care for him.

I couldn't very well throw over my own son for a few empty, pretty words, could I?

My expression shifted, and Rex added at once, "But I do have someone I love. It's only that her position is complicated, and it isn't mine to decide."

I raised an eyebrow and leaned back, slowly turning the pigeon's-egg diamond on my finger.

"Let's hear it, then."

Rex kept his head down, silent for a moment, then answered, "The younger Chavez daughter. Doris Chavez."

My fingers stopped on the ring. "Who?"

He answered without hesitation. "Doris Chavez."

That woke me right up. Doris Chavez was a name I knew very well.

Back when Fred still wasn't married, Doris Chavez was the daughter-in-law I'd wanted most.

In all these years, there wasn't a single family that matched the Hensons as equals.

Failing that, the Chavez family was a decent fit, and what mattered was that Doris had been raised to standards fit for an heiress since childhood. Beautiful, steady in temperament, and whether you judged her by how she'd run a household or by her own ability, she was without question the most suitable choice.

No one was better than her. But that fool of a son of mine wouldn't have it. The son I'd raised with such care brought me home a girl from the countryside instead.

He carried on in this house for a full half-year, crying and raging, and in the end he dragged that farm girl in front of the old man and me.

Whether I approved or not, we still had to meet her.

The first time we met, she wore a white dress, stood in the Henson family living room, and the first word out of her mouth was freedom.

"Ma'am, I know you look down on me. But love shouldn't be measured in money."

"Fred and I truly love each other. I won't think more of you because the Hensons are rich, and I won't think less of myself because my family raises cattle."

Later, at the wedding, she went further, taking the microphone and going on and on about freedom in love, freedom in marriage, freedom in having children.

The son I'd raised so carefully for more than twenty years was, by that point, as good as ruined.

I stared at Rex, and the whole thing struck me as absurd. "How long have you and Doris Chavez been together?"

"Three years."

My brow twitched. Three years.

So this wasn't some trick played to get himself back into the family.

Rex looked up at me. "I won't lie to you, and I don't want my brother to misunderstand. After he married, I meant to go to the Chavez family and ask for her hand, but with my position"

I said nothing. Eyes lowered, I studied him for a long while. He was a clever one. What a pity he wasn't my son.

Whoever he'd named, I wouldn't have given it a second thought. But of all people, it had to be Doris Chavez.

"Does the Chavez family know?"

Rex shook his head. "Doris only told her family she had someone she cared about. She didn't say it was me. She was afraid Uncle Peter wouldn't agree, and afraid of causing trouble for you."

A laugh escaped me. The boy really did know how to talk.

Whatever he actually felt inside, every word of his sat easier with me than anything Fred had ever said.

I patted the seat beside me. "Get up."

Rex didn't move. "Mom."

I patted the sofa again. "Come sit. Let me get a good look at you."

And still the silly boy wouldn't stand. He shuffled forward on his knees instead and brought his face right up to mine.

"Mom, look."

I paused, and couldn't hold back a laugh.

Up close, Rex really was good-looking.

His brow and eyes were very much like the old man's in his younger days.

I reached out and patted his cheek. "You know, the more I look at you, the more you grow on me."

I gave him no chance to turn sentimental. I glanced at the time. "Two hours."

"What?"

"You have two hours to change and make yourself presentable. I'll wait right here for you."

Rex went completely still. "Mom, where are we going?"

I gave a small smile. "The Chavez family. To discuss the marriage."

Two hours later, the car pulled up outside the Chavez home.

Rex had changed into a dark suit and redone his hair. He looked far sharper than he had earlier.

Peter Chavez came out himself to greet me, smiling as he shook my hand. "Mrs. Henson, what brings you here in person? A word ahead of time and I'd have prepared properly."

I smiled and stepped inside. "We're old friends. No need for any of that."

Peter sat with me in the living room. The tea was refreshed twice, and he was still making small talk.

I didn't feel like circling around it. "Peter, I've come today to talk about a marriage for my son."

The smile on Peter's face visibly caught.

Just then Doris came down the stairs, and the trace of a smile on her lips stiffened too.

Still, out of courtesy, she greeted me the moment she saw me, prim and proper.

"Aunt Cordelia."

That girl. I honestly liked her.

"Come, sit."

Doris took the seat beside her father, a faint unease already showing on her face.

Peter gave her a reassuring look, then let out a sigh.

"Mrs. Henson, it isn't that I mean any disrespect. Your Fred has been married two years now, hasn't he? The baby's nearly due. This marriage business..."

One listen and I knew they'd misread it.

Doris kept her head down, her fingers quietly curling tight.

Every person in the Chavez house today believed I'd come to renegotiate an engagement on Fred's behalf.

I cut in directly. "Peter, who told you I only had one son?"

Peter wiped at the sweat on his brow and looked up. "Cordelia, what do you mean by that?"

I waved toward the doorway. "Son, come say hello."

Only then did Rex walk in from behind me. He stood ramrod straight and greeted them properly.

"Uncle Peter."

Doris's head snapped up, her eyes lighting up in an instant, curving with the smile. She really was lovely.

I watched her with approval. This girl. Truly fine.

Peter looked at Rex, then at me, and for a long moment didn't catch on.

"And this is..."

"Rex Henson."

I picked up my teacup. "My second son."

That one short line laid my position out plainly.

Peter was a sharp man. He understood soon enough.

He simply had a reservation or two.

"Mrs. Henson, I never heard you mention this before."

"Before was before."

I took a slow sip of tea. "Today I've come to arrange a marriage for my son."

Doris, that girl, I liked in earnest. I thought of her as half a daughter, which made her future husband half a son to me.

And as it happened, that man was Rex. What was wrong with that? What was there that couldn't be acknowledged?

Peter fell silent a moment, then looked to his daughter. "Doris, what's your own feeling on this?"

Doris raised her eyes, without a hint of shyness. "Dad, I love Rex. This marriage, I want it."

Peter understood then. "The one you love, it's him? How long has it..."

"Three years."

Peter nearly choked on the next breath.

I drank my tea, amused. It seemed the boy hadn't lied to me after all.

Everything after that went unusually smoothly.

The two families had always been on good terms, and in the end even the date was set fast.

Three days from now.

I was stunned for a second when I heard the timing.

But Peter took my hand, laughing. "Come now, Cordelia, the children have been together three years. No sense dragging it out any longer. A day sooner or later, the marriage happens all the same."

I nodded. "All right. Then it's settled."

When I came out of the Chavez home, I can't tell you how good my mood was.

Rex opened the car door for me himself, and after I was seated, he shut it for me.

I glanced at him. "You're not getting in?"

"Me?"

"Where do you usually live?"

Rex paused. "My mother passed early. My father rented me a one-bedroom out in the suburbs a while back. I've been living there ever since."

I shifted over to make room. "Get in."

Rex gripped his jacket and looked down, saying nothing.

I gave him a sidelong look. This boy was bright and handsome, a match for the old man in his younger days. No wonder the old man favored this son. He really wasn't bad.

"Get in. There's no such thing as letting my son live off on his own. Rex, so long as you keep your word, you'll be the only son I, Cordelia Harding, truly claim."

I turned my head toward him. "Rex, let me make this clear. So long as you keep your word, from now on you're Cordelia Harding's true son."

He got in without hesitation. "I won't let you down."

I smiled and told the driver, "Drive."

For the next three days I barely had time to touch the ground.

The wedding was on a tight timeline, but the Henson family's grandeur couldn't be spared. Nothing could fall short.

Doris was the girl I favored, so of course I couldn't let her be shortchanged.

The day before the wedding, she came to the Henson home to sit and talk with me.

The two of them were downstairs. I'd just gotten back from the hospital and found them huddled together going over the wedding schedule.

I went over and chatted a few minutes, then, once again, didn't bother circling around it. "When do the two of you plan to have children? Does your family have any thoughts on it, Doris?"

Rex was about to speak when Doris looped her arm through his wrist. "Auntie, Rex already told me. The child will take your surname, Harding."

She smiled, easy and open. "My parents agree too. My father even said, for a child to share the name of someone as remarkable as you is the child's good fortune."

With that, she pulled out a sheet of paper from under the coffee table.

"And Rex and I already picked out a few given names ahead of time. Mom, would you look at which one fits?"

That "Mom" came out so naturally I could barely keep the corners of my mouth from lifting.

"You girl. You aren't even married yet."

"I'll be calling you that sooner or later."

Just as she said it, the housekeeper hurried over and murmured, "Ma'am, the eldest young master is asking for you."

"What is it?"

"He says the young mistress has given birth."

The smile on my face dimmed a little. The housekeeper handed me the phone, and the moment the call connected, Fred's frantic voice came bursting through.

"Mom, Margery's had the baby, it's a boy! Where are you all? Hasn't Dad been waiting all this time for a grandson? Why haven't you come over yet?"

Then his voice turned easy and pleased. "Mom, Margery went through all that to give you a grandson. Don't you and Dad owe her something? Didn't you two mention a yacht before? An estate would do too."

He was still shouting on the other end. "Hey, are you even hearing a word I'm saying?"

Doris didn't interrupt me. She only smiled and slid the paper full of names across to me.

Riley Harding, Miles Harding, Rex Harding.

I looked them over one by one.

Then, on the other end, his voice took on a threatening edge. "Do you still want to see your grandson or not?"