by Kahlen Aymes
“Wrap it up.” I smiled, handing it to the man behind the counter.
“Excellent choice, gentlemen.” He leaned down to Dylan, who was perched on a tall stool peering down into the jewelry case. “I’m sure your mom is going to love it.”
When we had the ring boxed and bagged, and were walking out of the mall, Dylan slid his little hand in mine. I felt a rush of love for him as my fingers closed around his smaller ones. He’d had such a shitty time, and I made it my personal objective to make sure his life was much better going forward.
“I love you, Jensey.”
Dylan’s little voice saying those words as he looked up at me with his sweet round face, really choked me up. “I love you, too.”
“Will Remi be mad if I call you dad and she doesn’t?” he asked seriously.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t think so. Chase is her dad. She’s always called me Jensey.”
Dylan considered this as we walked through the mall, out of the double doors, and into the parking lot. My SUV was parked a few rows away and a bit back from the building. “But I call you Jensey, too.”
“Yes, but when your mom and I get married, I’ll be your dad.”
“My real dad?”
“Yep,” I assured him. “We’ll go in front of a nice judge, and he or she will have us sign some papers and ask me if I promise to take care of you and love you forever, and of course, I will, and that will be that.”
Dylan considered my answer for a minute or two as we walked. “Well, when can I call you Dad, though?”
I bent to pick him up, positioning him on my hip as I walked. I held my keys and the ring bag in the other hand, positioning the little boy on my hip and holding him there with one arm. His good arm slipped around my neck. “Any time you want. I’ve thought of you as my little boy for a long time now.”
“Sometimes you just know stuff,” Dylan said as we approached the car.
“That’s right,” I said, my eyes starting to burn, but a smile playing on my lips.
“Let’s just hurry and ask your mom, so it doesn’t have to be a secret for very long.”
“You wanna tell everybody?” he asked, beaming.
I nodded. “Yep. Everybody in the whole world!”
I pushed the remote key to my car, and it honked indicating it was unlocked as we arrived at it. I pulled the back door open and settled Dylan into the booster seat I’d gotten for him shortly after I’d met his mom. I could speak as I buckled him in.
As I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine to head back to my house where Missy was meeting us later, Dylan kept chattering. “Can we ask her tonight, Dad?” he asked.
My heart filled with happiness. This was the first time anyone had ever called me Dad, and it couldn’t have meant more coming from anyone else. I still loved Remi with all my heart, but I realized that I loved Dylan just as much. Both of them had been through hell, and they were still such special, amazing kids. I felt very fortunate.
“What about our plan?” I asked. We planned to fly to one of the games Missy was commentating on and ask her live on the jumbotron when she didn’t know we were there. I still had to set it up, but it would be easy to work out with whatever teams were playing the day we decided on. “It’s a good plan.”
He shrugged with his good shoulder. “I don’t wanna wait that long. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” I answered a bit hesitantly. I thought I had the perfect idea to make it something Missy would never forget, but I understood Dylan’s desire to do it more quickly. Waiting was going to be agony for me, too.
“Can we ask her tonight after dinner?” I glanced in the rearview mirror, and he was yawning. He needed a nap while I got ready for dinner and did the cooking. Missy was working until six.
“Well, sure, but then I think we should have something better than spaghetti, don’t you?”
“I love psghetti. We can have meatballs. That makes it better.”
I chuckled. Life was so simple when you were six.
“Okay. I’ll make meatballs.” I didn’t know exactly how to do it, but I hoped I could find instructions or a recipe on Google or YouTube.
“Can we make those yummy peanut butter crispy treats, too?”
I silently inventoried the ingredients I had on hand to see if I needed to stop at the store on the way home. Butter, marshmallows, peanut butter and crisp rice cereal. I had all of it. “Yeah, we can make them if you want to.”
“Then we can dig a hole in Mom’s and put the ring in it, okay?”
I smiled so hard the dimples in my cheeks started to ache. “Sounds like we have a new plan.”
***
It was almost six-thirty, and Missy would be here any minute. Dylan was sitting at the small kitchen table next to me as I carved a groove into the top of the dessert we’d made together before his nap.
I didn’t want to cut them into bars yet because they’d dry out, but I couldn’t very well make a ditch in one to accommodate the ring with Missy looking on. I’d managed to find hundreds of recipes for meatballs and found the one marked easy with the most reviews and the most stars. I’d tasted one, and they were a tad rubbery for my taste, but Dylan gave them his stamp of approval.
“Do you think your mom will say yes?” I grunted as I dug the point of the knife into the sticky treats again after trying to insert the ring shank and finding it wasn’t quite wide enough to hold it.
“Oh, yeah,” he said casually. “She loves ya, a lot.”
“She does, huh?” I laughed out loud, eyeing him. I was certain she did, but this might be too fast for her after the horrible marriage she’d had before.
He nodded, reaching for the glass of water I’d gotten for him when he woke up.
The front door started to open. Missy had a key, but I’d left it open for her. Dylan and I both scrambled to hide the evidence. He jumped off of his chair, and I shoved the pan of dessert into the microwave. He snatched the ring box from the table, and I slipped the ring into the front pocket of my jeans.
Missy looked beautiful in her business suit; her hair was swept up into a loose knot and tendrils framed her beautiful face. She looked more gorgeous than she had in a while; the stress of her ex-husband neutralized and her face had taken on her former serene glow.
“What’s all this? My two men making me dinner? Wow!” she beamed at Dylan, and I walked over, slipped my arm around her waist and planted a kiss soundly on her luscious mouth.
“Yeah. We’re having psghetti, garlic bread, and meatballs!” Dylan exclaimed. His cheeks were rosy, and I could tell he was bursting at the seams to tell her what was up.
She turned to put her purse down in the other room, and I put a finger to my mouth silently asking Dylan to keep our big secret.
“No salad?” she asked skeptically looking at the table and the stove.
I pulled a large bowl of microgreens with tomatoes out of the refrigerator and plopped them on the set table. It was one of those bagged salads, but what the hell? It was green. “What do you have to say about that?” I challenged.
“Awww! Do I hafta eat it?” Dylan bemoaned.
“Yes,” Missy affirmed. “You can’t live on meat and carbs.”
“How come? That’s the stuff that tastes good.”
I rolled my eyes. We both laughed as Missy reached for the glass of red wine that I’d just poured for her. “He’s right, you know,” I agreed.
“Great. Just what I need; two against one.” She cocked her head and widened her eyes, silently warning me not to encourage Dylan’s abhorrence of vegetables.
Dylan grinned and plopped back down in his chair, looking up at me expectantly. “Let’s eat now, kay?”
Missy’s eyes met mine. I scooted Dylan’s chair closer to the table and then moved to hold the one to Dylan’s right out for her. She sat down at the table, and I seated myself across from her with Dylan between us.
The truth was, I was nervous. More nervous than I’d realized.
&
nbsp; “Did you Facetime Remi today, Dylan? Did she tell you what you’ve missed at school?”
The dinner conversation ensued as normal, we decided that after his follow-up doctor’s appointment and if the doctor cleared it, he wanted to return to school as soon as possible. She asked about our day, we related about our time at the arcade.
Missy told me about her upcoming game in St. Louis, and Dylan went on and on about Chase’s game in Orlando next month.
Missy cut his food into manageable bites, which he ate very fast, even for a six-year-old who wanted to get to dessert.
“For goodness sake, Dylan!” Missy scolded as he shoved the last few bites into his mouth. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I want dessert!” he said, with his mouth full. “I even ate the green stuff.”
I tried to hold back a laugh but didn’t quite manage.
“Well, you’re not going to have dessert if you act like a little piggy,” she admonished.
I took a sip from my wine glass just observing, then refilled both hers and mine with the deep burgundy wine. “Aw, come on, Mom. Lighten up a little!” I said, then took a long swallow, my eyes locking with hers. She was sexy as hell, and her come hither expression excited me for what I knew would come later in the evening. “We had a good day today. He’s just happy.”
“Happy?” she asked incredulously. “He’s going to throw up if he’s not careful.”
Once again, I grinned. “Dylan helped make the dessert.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“It’s a surprise. Can we get it now?” Dylan looked at me expectantly.
I smiled and nodded. Instantly the little boy got up from his chair and scurried into the kitchen.
“Dylan be careful! If you fall, you could hurt your shoulder!” Missy called.
I placed a calming hand on Missy’s shoulder after I rose from my chair, then gave it a slight squeeze. “Relax. He’s fine.”
“Do you need any help?”
“Yes, I need help. But not with the dessert,” I winked at her. “Later.”
She smiled like the sun, and I bent to give her a deep, lingering kiss before I heard the microwave door slam hard from the kitchen.
“I better get in there while I still have a kitchen. We’ll be right back.” I touched the silky skin of her chin with my thumb, before leaving to follow him.
When I got into the other room, Dylan had pulled one of the kitchen chairs over in front of the stove and climbed on top of it. How he’d managed to do it with one arm in a sling, I had no idea, but he was determined.
“Hey, wait a second.” I lifted the glass pan down, and we soon had the crispy treats cut and placed on individual plates.
I retrieved the ring from my pocket and placed it in the groove I’d made before. It sat perfectly perched as if in a ring box. Dylan beamed.
“Can I take it to Mom? Can I ask her?” Dylan was wired, nearly bouncing out of his skin. “Can I? Please?”
It wasn’t the most conventional of proposals, but I couldn’t deny him. “Sure,” I said, keeping the tenor of my voice low so Missy wouldn’t overhear. “Do you think you can do it without dropping it? You only have one hand right now, buddy.”
“Yes. I can do it! I won’t drop it; I promise!” Excitement radiated out of him, and his beaming smile said it all.
“Okay, but let me set yours and mine down first, and then I can kneel down beside you before you ask her, okay? It’s important to kneel on one knee.”
“Okay!” He threw his unconfined arm around me and hugged my neck tight.
I held him close and kissed the top of his head. “Let’s do this.” I held out a hand, and he slapped it as hard as he could.
He nodded enthusiastically, his blue eyes shining. “Let’s do this!” He repeated.
I inhaled deeply to settle myself, and then took the two plates without the ring and walked in before Dylan.
Missy was waiting; watching me curiously as I sat first one, then the other plate down on the table. I was acutely aware of the little boy standing behind me so that Missy couldn’t see him or the plate he was balancing on one hand. “Whatever happened to ladies first?”
“Well, there are times for that, but this isn’t one of them.” I smiled, taking in the curve of her face, her soft smile, and sparkling eyes. This was the last time I’d ever propose to anyone, and I wanted to commit every second of it to memory.
I stepped aside, and Dylan stood there; balancing her plate on one hand. “Put the plate on the table, Dylan,” I said softly, then knelt before his mother.
Missy’s eyes widened and her eyes filled with tears.
“Mom…” Dylan said as soon as the plate was safely on the dining room table, the ring sparkling in the center of the crispy treat. He looked at how I was kneeling, then he copied me, but used the opposite knee, catching his mistake and quickly correcting it. He wobbled a bit, and I steadied him with one hand on his back.
When he was kneeling, too, he blurted; “Mom, can Jensey be my dad?”
Both of Missy’s hands flew to her cheeks as tears spilled over. I couldn’t believe the words I just heard. Not; “Will you marry Jensey?” but “Can Jensey be my dad?” Nothing had ever sounded so beautiful to me. I held my hand out; waiting for Missy to place her left hand in mine.
I reached for the ring and waited.
Her eyes closed, and she cried as if her life depended on it.
“What the matter? Aren’t you happy?” Dylan was perplexed.
She nodded, opening her eyes finally. “Very happy!”
‘Well?” Dylan demanded. “Why are you crying, then? Jeez, Mom. We planned this out and everything. Can Jensey be my dad, or not?” He waited with wide eyes.
She laughed through her tears, as I smiled up into her beautiful face, my own eyes starting to blur.
“I love you, so much. I love your son. Will you both be mine?” I could hear the tremor in my voice as I said the words.
“Yes!” she said, and I slipped the sparkling diamond on her finger. “Oh, my God! Yes!”
Missy slipped off of her chair and down to the floor to take her place beside Dylan and me. I enfolded both of them in a tight embrace.
“I’m so happy,” Missy cried. “I love you both, so, so much.”
I wanted to kiss her hard, but I was still holding Dylan between us, and I was conscious of his injured arm. He solved the problem.
“Is it okay if I go Facetime Remi? Mom?” he looked back at us. “Dad? I wanna tell her!”
I flashed a smile, and Missy melted into more tears.
“And so… it begins,” I said. “Yes! Go Facetime Remi!”
As our son ran down the hall to find his iPad, and I kissed his mother breathless.
MISSY
The crowd went wild!
Remi and Dylan were standing in their seats jumping up and down and shouting. Teagan and I were seated with the little ones between us. Jensen was to my left and Ben to his. He’d flown to Orlando for the weekend, and to all of our delight, so did Chase’s parents and both of his siblings, Kat and Kevin, with their families. The location of the game was the perfect excuse to take a week-long family vacation at Disney World.
Teagan had the baby strapped to the front of her body in one of those baby carriers and sweet, adorable Mace, was blissfully asleep against his mother’s chest despite the endless crowd yelling and the visceral chanting for Chase at high decibels all around us. He was precious. Little cherub cheeks and a full head of soft dark hair, and Chase’s green eyes.
“Ace! Ace! Ace! Ace!” We all happily joined in the chant that echoed the entire stadium. “Ace! Ace! Ace!”
Chase was passed the ball, and he took it a few yards down the field only to kick it back to one of his teammates as they worked it masterfully down the field. The score was tied; 2-2, and the mood was tense. It had been an amazing game, but now, all eyes were glued to the field which was teaming with the yellow uniforms from the Ecuadorian team that contrasted star
kly with the striking red, white and blue of the USMNT. It was like eleven American flags were running up and down the field, with twenty or so more on the sidelines, but everyone was watching one man. The stands of Orlando City Stadium was filled to the brim with red, white and blue, and our group fit right in.
We all watched, speechless, as the clock wound down to mere seconds. The ball passed to Chase one last time. The entire game was riding on these final seconds. I’d never been to a more exciting sporting event. The ball flew through the air toward Chase, who launched himself up to back-kick the ball right into the goal. He landed hard on his back, but then rolled over and onto his feet, raising both fists into the air. Within seconds his teammates converged on him and hoisted him into the air, to the delight of the crowd. Everyone was shouting.
Remi and Dylan screamed at the top of their lungs and clapping like crazy, their little faces flushed with exuberance. We were all so happy.
“Yeah!” Ben yelled. “That was frickin’ amazing! Ahhhmaaazing!”
“Oh, my God!” I said, leaning into Jensen. “I think I might like soccer more than the NFL,” I yelled, so he could hear me. The pace was certainly faster, that was for sure.
Teagan was holding both arms up and clapping over her head unconsciously rocking her baby at the same time. I couldn’t help but envy her. I wanted my own little one, and it turned out, I wouldn’t have that long to wait. I glanced down at my beautiful engagement ring as it glittered in the sun, sending rainbows of light coming off the brilliant diamond and shooting them off in all directions.
I’d gone on the pill right after I’d started having feelings for Jensen, but not before we made love for the first time. That was too long ago to be when we’d conceived, but I knew no form of birth control is one hundred percent effective.