I came down at nine p.m., and numbers and projections were already starting to come in from the east coast where polls had been closed for a couple of hours. Michael and I had voted by mail, but Michael had gone with Joseph that morning as he cast his vote. Michael and I sat in the back and watched as the family cheered or cried as he won or lost states. Two hundred and seventy electoral votes was the magic number. I noticed Michael had tried to remain emotionless as a good journalist should do, but after a while I think he remembered he was this man’s biographer and it was ok to root for him. I knew I was.
Dani handled the noise tolerably well. I kept her swaddled against me for the most part, but Michael couldn’t resist holding her for part of the time. As the night wore on, and the energy increased in the room, the calmest one was Joseph. He laughed and joked easily. It was one of the reasons I liked him so much and felt like he would be a great leader. My favorite, though, was his daughter Hope; she threw popcorn at the large screen TV when snarky commentators put down her dad. I imagined she was like her mother in her fierce defense of her family.
The night dragged on, and I eventually leaned against Michael and tried to close my eyes. As a mom with a newborn, I didn’t do late nights well.
“Why don’t you go to bed,” Michael whispered.
“Not a chance, Bishop,” I whispered back.
He kissed my head in response. I wanted him to know that I supported him. One late night wasn’t going to kill me. At least I hoped not, but I was so thankful that by one a.m. it was clear Joseph had this in the bag. The elation in the room caused our little Dani to go into hysterics; it was then I took my leave. I’m sure I would hear the concession speech from his opponent many times over the next several days on the news, so I didn’t need to stay up to see it. I was just thrilled for the Xavier family. They would be an excellent First Family.
I’m not sure what time Michael came to bed, but he wrapped me up and kissed my neck as soon as he hit the sheets. I had missed sharing a bed with him. I just sank right against him.
“I love you, Carly,” he whispered in my ear.
I just sighed and fell right back asleep.
We decided that even though we were pretty beat the next morning, it was time to go home. The flurry of activity at the Xavier compound was more than any of us, especially our baby, wanted to deal with, and Michael was anxious to really be home. I told him he could move back in; he couldn’t have been happier, but I warned him that I couldn’t and wouldn’t go through the misery he had put us through this past year.
“I know my promises don’t carry the weight they once had, but I’ve seen life without you and I can’t bear that,” he said in response to my warning. I hoped with all my heart he meant it.
We came home and the busyness of our trip followed us. Michael had deadlines to meet, and of course, the holidays were approaching. But as busy and as tired as I was, I was happy, like really happy. I was approaching Thanksgiving this year with a renewed sense of all I had to be thankful for and with a determination not to take it for granted. Michael was determined too. Though he had to work long hours, he made sure every day that we had family dinners together and that between dinner and bedtime, he didn’t work. It meant there were nights when I would look over in bed and he was up, quietly typing away. When that happened, though, he always traded his laptop for me.
His parents couldn’t have been happier. As we gathered around their dining room table for Thanksgiving, both of their eyes shined as they looked around the table at all of us. They both gave me knowing smiles. My relationship with them was one of the best and brightest spots out of this whole mess. The holidays would now lack the awkwardness that had always existed between us. For that, I was truly grateful.
The only thing that was off was that my finger still lacked a ring, and Michael was behaving mysteriously about it. It started to become annoying, so I quit asking about it. “If you want me to look single, so be it,” I said in resignation.
His eyes burned. “I’ll follow you around twenty-four-seven if I have to.”
But finally, on my birthday, November twenty-eighth, the mystery was solved.
I came home late in the afternoon from my six-week postpartum check to find my house eerily quiet. I assumed at least the baby would be fussy and ready to eat, but I didn’t hear a peep as I walked into the kitchen while looking through the mail.
“I’m home,” I called, thinking I would be greeted by my rug rats; it was my birthday, after all, and I thought we had plans to go to dinner, but no one responded. Then I heard the soft melodic sounds of Journey playing, so I followed the sound to the living room. There I found my husband sitting in front of the lit fireplace on a blanket full of food, looking more handsome than ever, and holding what looked like flutes of sparkling cider.
I smiled. “What’s this?”
He motioned for me to come closer. I slipped off my shoes and eagerly approached him.
He raised his hand and helped me sit down next to him. “Happy Birthday, Baby.”
I kissed him. “Thank you, but where are our children?”
He smiled seductively and raised his eyebrow. “Ashton and Mia will be conveniently spending the night at my parents.” Then he held up the baby monitor. “Dani is asleep upstairs.”
I looked at him worriedly at that news. I wasn’t ready for her to be in her crib just yet.
He just smiled again. “She’ll be ok. I think we deserve a little alone time.”
I liked the sound of that. We hadn’t had any alone time since he had been back.
“So,” he asked, “how did your appointment go?”
I knew what he was getting at, so I smiled. “I was cleared for all physical activity.”
He pulled me closer and kissed me deeply. “Perfect, it looks like we’ll both get our favorite birthday present tonight then.”
He reached over, and from behind the nearby ottoman, he pulled out a tiny bag. “First this, though,” he said as he handed it to me.
I took the little red bag and removed the tissue paper to find a black jewelry box. Michael reached into the bag and removed the box and held it up in between the both of us. He stared at it for a moment as the firelight danced in those beautiful blue eyes of his. After a moment, he carefully opened the lid to reveal my wedding ring, but it looked quite a bit different than I remembered. “Carly, that secret account as you called it, I opened that account right after we got married.”
My eyes widened and he grinned. “Not for what you think,” he said. “I opened it because I felt bad that I couldn’t buy you the ring you deserved.”
“But I loved that ring.”
He placed his finger on my lip. “I know you did, baby, and that’s one of the many reasons I fell in love with you, but I wanted you to have the best, so I thought if I saved just a little whenever I could, I could eventually get you the ring you deserve.”
He took the new ring out of the box, reached over and picked up my hand, and gently slid the huge sparkler on my finger that had been begging to be occupied. I looked at the ring and it looked like my old band, but he way upgraded the diamond. He took back my hand and kissed it before he reached over and handed me a sheet of paper. I took it and looked it over. It was a statement of a closed out account. I don’t know why, but tears started running down my cheeks. He smiled and took the stupid piece of paper and tossed it in the fire.
He turned back to me and began kissing every inch of my face. “I love you, Carly,” he said between kisses. “Thank you for marrying me in the first place and then staying with me even though I don’t even come close to deserving you.”
I reached up and held his face in my hands, the face I loved so much. I smiled. “You better never forget it, Bishop.”
Epilogue
I should be sleeping, but I find it hard to turn away my gaze from two of the most beautiful creatures on this planet. On one side, I have my infant daughter that, thankfully, has taken after her mother in both beauty and
charm. Lying next to me is the reason I even began this blog in the first place, my reason for living, the mother of my children, the woman that completes me and makes me better in every way, the woman that occupied seat 24B twelve years ago to the day.
Twelve years ago I was the most self-centered, egocentric man in existence, but all it took was one flight in the middle of the night and this enchanting woman had me thinking of nothing else but her. That night I learned what true happiness was, and I only felt that happiness grow as I pursued her and eventually made the best decision of my life when I asked her to be my wife. For so long I realized that true happiness for me was allowing her to occupy my thoughts and to put her every need and want above my own.
Unfortunately, this past year I forgot where the source of true happiness was for me, and to my family’s and my detriment, I became that man I was before she entered my life. I turned my gaze inward, and in doing so, I almost lost it all. My selfishness took my family to the brink of destruction. And for what? Only caring about myself made me more miserable than I had ever been before.
But this woman who sleeps so peacefully next to me, who could have so easily just let me go, and should have, showed me greater love than I ever imagined possible and more than I deserved. She has always said that love is the most powerful force on this earth; not only does she say it, but she lives it. She embodies love, and because of that, she is a force not to be reckoned with. I was beyond foolish to even attempt to dismiss that.
So, here in the dead of the night, I try to convey with words even just a small inkling of how I feel about this woman who has stuck by my side from the very beginning, and I find myself failing at the task. Or maybe not. Maybe such thoughts and feelings can only be understood within the heart, and the only way they can be known is through our own actions. Because truly, what are professions of love worth with no action to back them up? I guess my only hope is that I can spend the rest of my life showing this woman that bears my last name now how much she has, and does, and will, mean to me always. Because she has, and will, always be it.
The girl in seat 24B.
THE END
About the Author
Jennifer Peel is a fifth generation Colorado native who currently calls Alabama home. She is the mother of three amazing children who have grown up way too fast. She enjoys the mountains, vacations at the beach, date night with her wonderful husband, late night talks with her kiddos, touring model homes, pink bubblegum ice cream…and writing.
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Other books by Jennifer Peel:
Other Side of the Wall
Professional Boundaries
House Divided
To see more about her and her books, visit her website at: www.jenniferpeel.com
The Girl in Seat 24B Page 25