by Eva LeNoir
“You…will,” he coughed, choking on his own saliva. I reached out and gave him the water that was set next to the bed. “Best mother. Ever.”
Leaning down, I grabbed his hand with both of mine and kissed his hands as our foreheads touched.
“I’m taking the little girl in you with me, and leaving a strong, amazing woman here. Contribute to science, contribute to love,” he coughed again, sipping on the water. “Be happy, baby girl. That’s the wish of any father. It’s my greatest wish for you.”
An hour later, my father, the greatest influence in my life, fell asleep and never woke up. He left with a small smile on the corner of his mouth, a real smile, and each of his hands holding the greatest loves of his life. My mother and me.
The only reason I could possibly survive this, was Marlon’s arms holding me up.
He held me as my father was taken away. As I cried my goodbyes all through the night.
He continued to hold me as I showered in a daze, washing me and whispering all the things I needed to hear.
Your father was so proud of you.
This was his wish.
I love you more than life.
The day of the funeral, dressed in black with only a white line of pearls adorning my neck, I looked out the window of my bedroom, the ocean scintillant under warm rays of the sun, I felt a momentary glint of hope. Closing my eyes, I could almost hear him telling me to do great things, to be happy. To take advantage of what life could offer.
But his voice wasn’t in my ears, it was in my heart. I could feel his voice as it filled me with comfort throughout my body.
It was with that feeling that I was able to get through the wake. Then the service. Then the interminable drive to the cemetery where, surrounded by hundreds of people who loved and respected my father, he was put to rest.
The tears couldn’t be helped of course but every step of the way, Marlon was my silent anchor.
“Little bird,” he whispered, one hand squeezing mine lightly as he handed me a white rose to throw on top of Dad’s casket.
My final farewell. Because I refused to say to goodbye.
Epilogue
Marlon
Paris, four years later…
“Merci, c’est parfait,” I thanked the restaurant owner in the heart of the Latin quarters of St. Michel. My accent was par for the course, as an American, but I could get by. My little bird, however, was almost fluent. Her father had made sure she could speak both French and Spanish when she was just a little girl.
“Can I take the blind-fold off, yet,” Jaidyn asked from beside me, her hand rising to pull down the velvet piece of cloth.
“Ah, ah, ah,” I scolded, circling her delicate wrist with my fingers, “no cheating, wife.”
We’d been married for four years and still not a day went by where I didn’t thank whatever gods allowed this queen to be mine, forever.
She was stunning, yes, but so much more than that. Jaidyn was brilliant, coming in first of her class in medical school where she’d only recently graduated. She was also filled with kindness and empathy, both qualities she used every day in her studies and internships. With the money we both had, she could have skated through life, doing charities, and helping in some way, but she wanted to be in the heart of neuro medicine. Accompanying families through the difficult phases of Huntington’s and Alzheimer’s. Not only that but she felt it a calling to research ways of either finding a cure or at least giving patients more good years before their decline.
Jaidyn wanted to make sure no other family had to live through the pain of losing loved ones to the disease that ultimately would have taken her father if he hadn’t chosen his own path.
“Par ici, monsieur, tout est prêt,” the server said, dressed in a suit that recalled the nineteen forties.
As we reached our table, I looked around to check that all was in place and perfectly set-up before thanking Abdel profusely and turning to my beautiful, impatient wife.
Reaching behind her, I pinched the ends of the blindfold and kissed the tip of her nose, “I like you like this,” I murmured, for her ears only, “I’m keeping this for later, when I eat your pussy and make you come on my face.”
Jaidyn shivered; she always did when I said filthy things to her.
As the blindfold fell from her eyes, my little bird blinked once, twice, and then looked around. It took her a few minutes to realize what was going on but when she did, she gasped, turning to face me, her mouth agape with surprise.
“Did you…?” she looked around once more before staring at me again, “Marlon…”
“Welcome to Rick’s Café, in the heart of Paris,” I told her.
I wanted to take her to Casablanca in Morocco, but the trip to Paris coincided with a medical conference on Huntington’s, presented by the top Parisian specialists who’d made some progress with long-term care.
The real deal would have to wait for the next time she had free time. Considering she was starting her residency in the fall, I doubted that would be anytime soon. She’d been accepted to the UCLA medical which ranked sixth in the nation in neurological care. To make life easier for her, I’d sold my apartment in downtown Los Angeles and we’d bought a home on Venice Beach, big enough to house a baseball team. Our free time was spent in Huntington beach as well where Millie and Justin still lived life to the fullest. Until I could whisk her away again, Paris was our only option.
So, I brought Casablanca to her.
With the entire restaurant redecorated for the night, I’d paid the owner and the staff a hefty sum for the transformation. I didn’t mind other guests being there, of course not, but I wanted Jaidyn to be transported for a while before I told her the exciting news.
“You’re crazy, you know that, right?” she scolded, happy tears making her eyes shine with mirth.
“Crazy about you, baby,” I said, laying it on thick and making her laugh.
Taking her hand, I brought her to the small dance floor as the Casablanca favorite, “As Time Goes By” played over the soundwaves. I had ordered our meal before we’d even arrived, saving us some time and giving us more intimacy.
“I know this was your parents’ song, but we’ll do better than them. We’ll still be dancing when we’re a hundred and two,” promised as we swayed to the melody that always brought her comfort.
As the other clients came in and were seated for their dinner in this favorite Parisian quarters, I brought my wife back to our table where we ate fresh couscous, the chicken cooked to perfection and the spices wafting around us, making our mouths water. Cilantro, nutmeg and cinnamon all blended together to create heaven in our mouths.
“You know, there’s a reason I did all this,” I told her as I finished off my glass of wine, watching her, drinking her in.
“Oh? And here I thought it was solely because you loved me?” she placed a hand on her heart feigning shock and disappointment, “now, I learn you had an ulterior motive?”
It hadn’t been my motive before, but it sure as fuck was now.
Thankfully, we were seated at the back, the lighting subdued with only the dim candles illuminating the tables.
Leaning over the table, I deviated from my plan, “Go to the bathroom and take off your panties.” Fuck, I was already hard as I formulated my plan.
I saw her eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other then back to mine. When her lascivious little smile curled up her sexy mouth, I knew she was going to play.
Through the years, we’d become more adventurous, more playful, more daring in our lovemaking and it was the hottest thing I’d ever experienced.
It didn’t take her long to come back to me, walking up from behind and sliding her panties into the front pocket of my shirt, kissing my neck as she did.
“Ball’s in your court, Casanova,” she whispered, and my mind was already calculating the best way to make her come.
The little time Jaidyn was gone, I’d asked the waiter to bring us champagne and to gi
ve us privacy, which he did with a partition screen, effectively closing us off from the better half of the restaurant.
“Spread your legs, little bird,” I commanded, my eyes leaving no room for arguments.
Sliding my chair closer to my wife, I curled my fingers around her long locks and angled her head toward me, her attention solely on my eyes. On my intentions. My other hand was already spread out over her bare thigh, the early summer weather perfect for skirts, and my wife knew I liked easy access to her pussy, always.
By the time my fingers reached her lips, she was wet enough to dampen her thighs.
“Mmm, my little bird needed me and didn’t say anything?”
“I knew you could read my mind,” she answered, and that earned her a finger inside her pretty little pussy before I pulled her in and kissed her senseless. My tongue seeking out her tongue, my teeth biting her lips, her moans filling the tiny space between us.
With another finger joining the first, I fucked her right there in the heart of Paris, in a restaurant decorated for the sole purpose of making her happy, under a table that could barely hold two place settings. I fucked her like she was my queen. I fucked her like she deserved, until she came on my fingers and thanked me with a cry that I swallowed with pride.
Once Jaidyn had regained her senses, I kissed her swollen lips one more time before leaning back and licking her juices right off my fingers. The meal had been delicious, but my little bird was the best dessert on the planet.
Without a word, I placed an envelope on the table and watched her reaction closely.
Reaching over, she grabbed the white envelope and looked up at me questioning, unsure.
“This was my original ulterior motive, but it all worked out all right in the end,” I said, winking at my beautiful wife, “go ahead, open it.”
As I waited, I watched her every reaction, her gradual understanding of how our lives were going to forever change.
“Oh my god!”
I waited a little more.
“Marlon?”
And a little more.
“Is this for real?”
“Congratulations, Mrs. Hughes-Brooks. You’re going to be a foster mom.”
Acknowledgements (unedited and raw)
If you’ve made it to this page then I’m hoping you enjoyed Jaidyn and Marlon’s journey to happiness. They obviously still have ups and downs to go through because let’s face it, the universe has a lifetime stockpile of lemons ready to be hurled at us. And that’s okay, I have a lifetime supply of Tequila ready to make Margaritas, so all is balanced in the world.
First, THANK YOU, to you the readers, for giving this story a chance. I hope it lived up to your expectations and if it didn’t, that’s okay too. I appreciate the trust and hope it was worth your time. Any and every review is welcome.
My alpha reader, Chrisstine Hague—I may have an ulcer from the stress of sending off my chapters. Thankfully, the time change made the time pass faster. I couldn’t have done it without you and for that, I thank you profusely.
My editor Sarah Goodman of Sassi’s Editing Service—You should know that your tears and comments were a balm to my soul. Thank you for loving the journey and for making time for me.
Renita McKinney, A Book A Day Inclusion/Diversity Editing—Sending my manuscript to you was one of the best decisions I have ever made, book related. There is nothing better than having my eyes opened on so many levels. Thank you, a million times, for your insight and your support. You are cherished, always.
To my favorite immigrant (don’t tell Caleb), Stevie J. Cole—Girl… I love you. I’m not sure I can say much more than that. You (all four of you) have changed my life. Thank you for trusting me.
My beta readers, Rose HL, Jean Siska and Shannon Clark—Your input was invaluable, thank you a million times for taking time from your busy schedules to help a girl out. Love you ladies to the moon and back.
USA Today Bestseller E.S Carter or Eli for short—I value your opinion so much and the fact that you read and loved this story means the world. A thousand cusanau your way, my love.
USA Today Bestseller Angel Payne—What an honor to have you read my story. Thank you for taking time out, I truly appreciate it.
My Sprint Queen, Sloane Murphy—I will never be worthy but I will die trying! Thank you for all the encouragements and the laughs, you are amazing!
To my dearest friend and sister from another mister, Danielle. We have been friends for the better part of twenty-seven years (I just cried at that number) and we will be friends until our last breaths. I love you, thank you for your input and expertise. Marlon thanks you, too!
As you all know, the story takes place in different countries. I researched a lot and I mean… A LOT! But sometimes you just need to talk to the locals in order to get the details right.
Shannon and Angel helped with SoCal, notably Orange county and San Diego. And Christine Reiss who helped me navigate the L.A highways!
Chrisstine made sure I didn’t screw up all things New Zealand and Australia.
Danielle was my surfing coach, she made sure Marlon was killing it on the waves!
Rose and JD Hawkins helped me with the Jerusalem passage, making sure I did justice to the site.
Marjaana Rentanen and Anna Lehtinen helped me with everything Finnish.
Every single one of you contributed to this story and I cannot thank you enough for your time and input. Truly, I appreciate you. THANK YOU!
Once everything is said and done…the ARC readers, the bloggers, the readers, you are the life of our books and we love you for everything you do.