Page 97 of Free

That, my friends, is what happiness looks like.

While Remi helps Justin deal with a situation involving tears and apologies between the young children, Julia gives me a quick tour of their home.

“We used to have offices and a home gym and everything the young and wealthy are supposed to have. I don’t know why we never bothered to move. The sentimental value, I suppose. Now, all we have are toys and children’s bedrooms. I even lost my studio. The only room that stayed the same was the library, and that’s because if Justin had to pick us or books , I’m not sure we’d come out on top.”

Honestly, she doesn’t seem all that put out about it.

Together, the Lancaster-Williams have four children, with two on the way. They’ve never had DNA testing. As far as they are concerned, the children have two fathers and a mother. DNA makes no difference to them.

When word got out about how Lancaster Senior treated his only child, the backlash was far-reaching. Though he had his support, it wasn’t enough in the wake of all his son’s accomplishments. He was ousted as CEO of his family's business, though he remains the majority shareholder. I asked Remi if he ever planned to go back, and he was hesitant to say no. “Who knows?” he shrugs. “Not today.”

Julia never went back to work and instead stays home with the children and volunteers part-time. She runs a tiny art studio featuring not only her own pieces but the work of local artists. All profits go to fund art programs at local schools.

Justin is a librarian for a small liberal arts college. It’s his dream job, he claims. He gets paid to read. Let’s hope his manager doesn’t read this article. They may have something to say about that.

“You asked how A Place of A Different Color came to be,” Remi says as the interview is winding down. I’ve been here for hours. We’ve moved from the patio to the living room, and the baby (thirteen months to be exact) is in Remi’s arms. We long ago stopped talking about APADC. “The truth was I was so alone.”

“Then there were three of you,” I comment.

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sappy smile. “Then there were three.”