Mason clears his throat and squeezes my hands. “Piper, I know you’ve been trying to decide what to do with your life—be a waitress, go into publishing, maybe even try your hand at acting again someday. But there is one job I want you to have regardless of what you choose for your profession.” Hailey makes a loud squeal and his eyes turn to her as my mom tries to hush her.
He looks back up at me. “Actually, that’s not true. I want you to have two jobs. If I searched the entire world, I could not have found a better woman—a better role model for my daughter. You’ve been to hell and back yet you are the strongest person I’ve ever met. You are fiercely loyal to those worthy of your love. You think you are damaged. I think you are beautiful. You’re the most beautiful person, inside and out, that I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I want to love you, cherish you, and protect you every day from here on out. I want to be your husband, your best friend, and maybe someday, the father of your children. And I want you to help me raise mine.”
Sniffles come from behind me and I know my sisters are both crying. I try to take in everything he has said as my knees attempt to keep me standing. Husband? Children? Can I do this? Am I even capable?
“I don’t know what the future holds,” he says, still looking up at me with pools of hope swimming in his icy-blue eyes. “I can’t promise my job won’t take us away from here. I can’t promise I’ll be home for dinner every night. I can’t promise I will make every birthday party and holiday celebration. But what I can promise you is my heart. My soul. My devotion. My forever.”
He looks over at Maddox. “Now, buddy,” he says.
Maddox hurries over and Mason removes the ring from the ties that bind it to the pillow.
“Piper Mitchell, I love you. I love every part of you that I’ve seen, and every piece of you I’ve yet to discover.” He holds the ring out to me. “So, what do you say, Snow White, will you be my princess, my queen, my one and only wife from now to eternity?”
Big drops of tears fall onto my cheeks as I nod my head over and over. My heart is so full, I’m incapable of speech. I let him slip the ring onto my finger then I fall to my knees, right into his strong arms and welcoming lips.
Applause bounces off the walls around us as we seal the deal with our mouths and then embrace each other like there is no tomorrow. Hailey runs up to us, jumping into our hug as only a two-year-old can do.
Mason laughs, his glistening eyes mirroring mine. “Just to be sure, that was a yes?” he asks.
I nod again as we stand, him holding Hailey as he helps me to my feet. She holds her arms out to me and I take her. “That was a yes,” I say. “To everything.”
“Everything?” He raises a roguish brow, his face filled with more promises.
“I want it all, Mason. The whole fairy tale. The happily ever after. I’m ready for it now. Thanks to you, I’m ready for it now.”
“We’re ready,” he says, putting his arm around the two of us. “Now let’s get this party started so I can take my fiancée home.”
Fiancée. The word rolls around in my head. Never in a million years did I think I would have someone call me that. But I like it. No, I love it.
He takes my hand and we step off the altar—the first step into our forever.
epilogue
piper
Thirteen years later . . .
I fiddle with the charm on my bracelet, twisting it around the leather straps that never leave my wrist.
I can’t remember ever being so scared and excited at the same time. I try to distract myself with the game Mason and I often play—guess the body part. I push into the side of my eight-month belly and see if I can get her to push back.
Griff is getting antsy. His five-year-old body can only sit still for so long, and although it’s only been ten minutes, it seems as much of an eternity to me as I’m sure it does to my son. “Tell me again, Daddy,” his words, along with his piercing blue eyes beg Mason. “Tell me again about your ring.”
Griff, named after Mason’s best friend, and one of the two people responsible for getting us together, fingers his father’s Super Bowl ring. He twirls it around and around the third finger of Mason’s right hand while my gaze becomes affixed on the ring that adorns his left. The ring that makes him mine.
As Mason indulges our son in tales of football for the millionth time, my mind wanders back eighteen years to the day I first met my daughter. The day I said hello and goodbye to her all within an hour. The day I died until Mason brought me back to life.
Eighteen years. Eighteen years, two months and nine days since I’ve seen her, and she’s about to walk through that door any second.
Amber. That’s her name. It’s the only thing I know about her, other than the fact that she grew up in White Plains, just forty-nine miles from here. Thirty-three minutes away on the express train. So close that we’ve probably passed on the street. Or eaten in the same restaurant. Or gone to the same movie theater.
My unborn daughter must sense my anxiety as she’s doing somersaults in my stomach. I rub my hand across my belly, wondering if she will look like Amber did as a newborn.
I never had a picture. I didn’t need one. Even after all these years, her face is still etched into my memory as permanently as the rose is tattooed into my skin.
Then fear grips me and I think, not for the first time, that Amber might not want to know me. She might just want to meet me; getting some kind of closure to whatever story her parents may have told her about me. She may even hate me, especially when she sees I have other children. Children I chose to keep—not give away.
Mason and I debated postponing the meeting until after the baby came. But what it really boiled down to was that we wanted to dive into this head first—the way we’ve dealt with everything life has thrown at us since the day we got engaged. If it isn’t meant to be, we will accept it and move on, just like we did after my multiple miscarriages almost a decade ago.
I don’t know what to expect from this meeting. I’ve dreamed about this day for years. With Mason’s gentle urging, I registered my information on the adoption reunion website the day she turned eighteen. I never imagined she would do the same. But she did, and it only took a few months to get through the red tape and organize a meeting.
Before that, I didn’t know if she was even alive. Or if she was living in New York. Or if she had ever been told she was adopted. But whatever happens here, I know Mason has my back. He’s had my back since the day I walked off that plane all those years ago.
He encouraged me to get involved in community theater, and after a few years of that, to take some small roles in independent films produced by Gavin’s studio. But my heart was always at home with Hailey and Griff.
I look at Mason, in awe of the father he is with our children. He never raises his voice, even when fifteen-year-old Hailey tries to leave the house with a skirt that is three sizes too small. Just as he’s always been a leader and motivator on the field, he’s handled his kids with respect and grace, making our family cohesive. Significant. Strong.
He slips the chunky Super Bowl ring off his finger and lets Griff play with it as he tells him about the winning touchdown pass he threw to capture the title of MVP.
After eleven years as starting quarterback for the Giants, it was the last game he played before announcing his retirement two seasons ago. Everyone knew he had a good five years left in him, but he didn’t want to miss any more birthday parties. He didn’t want to hear about Hailey’s teenage accomplishments or Griff’s first tee-ball game from me. He wanted to live those moments with them.
Hailey wanted to be here, but her sophomore class trip to D.C. was this week and we weren’t about to let her miss out on that experience. Not even for this. She has always wanted a sister, and now, God willing, she might be able to have two. The fact that they don’t share blood has never concerned her. Just as my not being her biological mother has never been an issue. Since she was two years old, I’ve been Mom and Cassidy h
as been Mama. And she is as much my child as Griff and the baby growing inside me.
Mason reaches over to squeeze my hand. “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. We can get through anything, right?”
I nod. “Right, babe.”
He smiles and picks up my hand, kissing the back of it when the door to the conference room swings open, causing my heart to smash into the wall of my chest.
She walks through the door and I freeze. Time stands still. Mason leans into me and whispers, “God, Piper, she’s you.”
He’s right. It’s like looking into a mirror at my eighteen-year-old self, right down to her green eyes. But no way was I this beautiful. Nothing and no one has ever been as beautiful as the creature I see standing before me.
And just like the day I gave birth to her, she instantly works her way into every corner of my being.
With Mason’s help, I stand. I remind myself to breathe before I force my legs to walk me across the room.
Amber and I quietly stare at each other with millions of unanswered questions swimming in our identical eyes. As I come around the table and get closer to her, her eyes fall to my stomach. Then they dart over to where Griff has parked himself, staring out the picture window at the tiny cars thirty floors below.
A slow smile creeps up her face, brightening her eyes as they glisten with tears, matching my own. Her smile lights up the room. It lights up my soul. And for the first time in eighteen years, I feel complete.
“I’ve always wanted siblings,” she says through her smile.
Tears of joy roll down my cheeks as the first words I’ve ever heard her speak wind silken threads around my heart.
She holds her hand out to me. “Hi. I’m Amber,” she says, a sweet crest of emotion filling her voice. “Amber Rose Black.”
THE END
Just when you thought the Mitchell sisters were history, Charlie gets her own book! See more of Baylor, Skylar, and Piper in STONE RULES, the first book in my Stone Brothers series.
The Stone Brothers BOX SET coming in October 2017.
To read Charlie’s story, please find Stone Rules on Amazon:
US - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01M09FHOJ
UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01M09FHOJ
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About the Author
Samantha Christy’s passion for writing started long before her first novel was published. Graduating from the University of Nebraska with a degree in Criminal Justice, she held the title of Computer Systems Analyst for The Supreme Court of Wisconsin and several major universities around the United States. Raised mainly in Indianapolis, she holds the Midwest and its homegrown values dear to her heart and upon the birth of her third child devoted herself to raising her family full time. While it took time to get from there to here, writing has remained her utmost passion and being a stay-at-home mom facilitated her ability to follow that dream. When she is not writing, she keeps busy cruising to every Caribbean island where ships sail. Samantha Christy currently resides in St. Augustine, Florida with her husband and four children.
You can reach Samantha Christy at any of these wonderful places:
Website: www.samanthachristy.com
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Twitter: @SamLoves2Write
E-mail: [email protected]
The Mitchell Sisters: A Complete Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 89