Winnie said, “I’m busy. I have client meetings all the time, and I’m used to wearing suits, so I just stick with them.”
Her closet was almost entirely filled with tailored suits. She rarely wore casual clothes—let alone skirts.
Her mother used to complain that she wasn’t like other girls, sometimes even saying how wonderful it would have been if she’d been born a boy. Winnie had heard it so often growing up that she’d become numb to it.
Chairman Francoeur fell silent, his eyes soft with tenderness as he looked at his granddaughter.
If his son hadn’t died so young, he would have had more children with his wife—even if they were all daughters—so Winnie wouldn’t have to carry everything alone. If his son were still alive, there would likely be more grandchildren by now. His daughter-in-law had loved children. He once overheard the young couple talking about their future—they wanted several children, a son and a daughter.
The Francoeur family had always been small. He had hoped it wouldn’t stay that way.
When they first learned his daughter-in-law was pregnant, father and son were overjoyed.
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