by Karen Cimms
I ran a brush through my hair, bent over at the waist and threw my head back, then finger combed it into place. I coated my lips in red gloss, smacked them together, and pouted into the mirror over my dresser.
Tonight was going to be off the charts.
All of our nearest and dearest were piled into our tiny house, crammed onto the sofa and the extra chairs we’d borrowed to set up around the living room and eat-in kitchen. Other than a new boyfriend for my mother and the addition of Quinn, everyone eating, drinking, and for the most part, laughing, were the same people who had stood on a beach at dawn to watch us get married the first time. It seemed fitting. Especially watching Chase, standing beside his brother as Dylan told a story that had tears running down Wally’s face. This Chase—strong, quiet, confidant—this was the man who’d swept me off my feet six years ago.
“Rain, dear.”
I might never get used to endearments from my mother-in-law.
“I think Quinn is in need of a diaper change.”
Izzy jumped up and rushed for her sister, who was turning the same color as a tomato.
“I’ve got her, Iz. Besides, I don’t think she’s quite done yet.” I took the baby from Geraldine. I lowered my head as I passed Izzy. “Everything ready?”
She nodded nervously.
“When I come back, then, okay?”
I’d just finished changing Quinn and was pulling up her little white tights when there was a soft tap on my door.
“Come in,” I called out, surprised when the door opened and my sister-in-law was standing in the doorway.
“Is everything okay?”
She nodded and pointed to the door. “May I?”
“Sure.”
Lorraine took a tentative step into the room. She stood stiffly, her eyes downcast, grasping her fingers and twisting her wedding and engagement rings.
“I guess this is long overdue, but I wanted to apologize.”
Long overdue? I’ll say. Actually, there was a lot I would’ve liked to say, but what was the point? Chase had his family back and his eyes wide open. He’d put them on notice that when it came to me and him, their opinions weren’t welcome. Once the dust had settled after his aborted wedding to Callie, and his brother, and finally his mother, had come around, life had been a lot quieter. Thankfully.
Lorraine had been the last holdout, and Chase had made it clear to Dylan that unless she apologized to me first, she shouldn’t even bother trying with him. I guess it was time.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
She lifted her eyes for a moment, and then went back to staring at the floor. “I mean, I don’t imagine we’ll ever be friends or anything—”
“No, we won’t. But we are family and that’s more important, especially for my husband and yours. As far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.”
Her thin arms wrapped around her waist. She was a pencil in a sweater dress.
It was probably wrong of me, but I couldn’t help myself.
“If you don’t mind my asking, how’s Callie?”
She snorted. “Who knows? She blamed me for what happened. Eventually, she stopped answering my calls. I ran into her mother not too long ago, and she told me that she’d taken a job at a hospital in upstate New York.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“No, but I can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose my best friend.”
She swallowed nervously. “Kinda sucks,” she said, then surprising me even more, she motioned to Quinn.
“May I?”
A year ago you couldn’t have paid me to hand my daughter over to this woman, but a lot had changed. Me, for one thing.
I was no longer lacking in self-esteem. I had no desire to put myself on display for attention, and while my feelings about nudity hadn’t changed, I understood and respected Chase’s feelings as well. And with his permission, I did my final photo shoot, almost completely naked, in the arms of an almost completely naked man, and Chase didn’t have a problem with it. Probably because he was the other model in the shoot.
Antoine, who never could take no for an answer, had begged me to do a photo shoot for him while I was around eight months pregnant. When I kept telling him no, he asked if I would reconsider if Chase would agree to do the shoot with me. Surprisingly, he did, especially when he learned it would give us enough money to spruce up the kitchen and finish the bathroom so we could sell the house without having to dip into our savings.
The photo had been for an article on sexuality during pregnancy for Baby Love magazine. It turned out so well, the image was also used on the cover. Despite our nudity (Chase did opt to wear a modesty pouch to cover his junk), the shoot was tasteful and artistic, and the selected photo had turned out so beautiful, Antoine had gifted us with an enormous framed print that now hung over our bed.
Lorraine’s eyes swept over the portrait and then back to Quinn.
It was time to move on. I turned my daughter around so that she could see Lorraine. When she smiled, Quinn gurgled and began to kick. I wiped a string of drool off her lip before handing her over.
“Quinn, this is your Aunt Lorraine.”
Lorraine lifted Quinn into her arms, and cradled her like a pro. She pressed her nose to Quinn’s head and breathed in that magic baby smell. “Dylan wants a little girl.” Her eyes were soft and she smiled. “I think he’s jealous of Chase. I’m not sure I could manage three kids though. Especially if it’s another boy. Logan and Trevor are a handful. I’m surprised we haven’t heard any crashes yet.”
“No worries. Nothing is irreplaceable.”
Her laugh was more of a nervous titter. She was trying. We’d never be hanging out for girls’ night, but we’d be able to enjoy a holiday dinner, I was certain of it.
The bedroom door pushed open. “Babe?” Chase’s eyebrows creased as he looked from Lorraine to me. “Everything okay?”
I made sure my smile was wide enough for him to see that yes, everything was okay.
“Quinn was just getting to meet her Aunt Lorraine.”
Lorraine looked up at Chase, a soft sheen in her eyes. “She’s beautiful. Congratulations.” Turning back to me, she asked, “Should I take her back to the living room? I think Geraldine wants her back.”
“Sure. I’m just going to wash my hands, and I’ll be right out.”
As soon as Lorraine’s footsteps could be heard echoing down the hall, Chase stepped into the room and closed the door. “You sure you’re okay? If she was starting any of her bullsh—”
I pressed a hand against his chest. “Nope. We’re good. She actually wanted to apologize.”
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “No shit? It’s about time.” He searched my eyes, probably trying to make sure I was telling the truth. I had no doubt that had Lorraine started any trouble, he wouldn’t have hesitated to show her the door. Satisfied, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me in for a kiss with just enough tongue to make me want to wish everyone goodnight.
“I thought you told people not to bring any presents,” he said after pulling away, leaving me aching for more.
“I did. No one listens.”
“Well, there’s a table full of presents out there, and Izzy is pacing around like a caged tiger, wanting us to open them.”
I wiggled my fingers in the air. “I’ll be right out.”
Chase and I opened the gifts, which were mostly gift cards to restaurants and Home Depot, and thankfully, nothing to add to all the packing I’d be doing over the next few weeks. When we were done, there was only one present left. A bright pink and purple gift bag, tied together with shiny ribbon curls and a scalloped handmade gift tag.
Chase picked it up and read the tag. He scanned the room. “This one only has my name on it.”
I glanced over at Diane to make sure she was recording him with her iPhone. “Guess you better open it then.”
He peeked in the bag. “It doesn’t say who it
’s from.” When he looked up at me, I shrugged.
“For crissakes, open it!” Diane said.
“You better open it, Chase. My girl’s a little cranky,” Wally said.
She lowered the phone. “Who’s cranky?”
Wally cowered, all six foot four inches and three hundred plus pounds of him. “Here,” he said, snatching the iPhone from her hands. “Let me do that. You rest.”
Diane glared at him and pointed at the watermelon under her dress. “You did this to me.”
Their heads swiveled in my direction at the sound of my snapping fingers. “Guys. You mind?”
Diane gave Wally one more narrowed glance. “Sorry,” she said. “Continue.”
With Wally now filming and Diane settling back into Chase’s recliner, Chase went back to the gift bag in his lap. He tugged on the ribbon and pulled out two envelopes numbered one and two.
He held up envelope number one. “I guess I open this one first.” Everyone laughed, although no one but me and Izzy had a clue what was in the bag. The only thing Diane knew was that I’d asked her to get all of it on camera. Considering how emotional she was lately, I was glad she’d passed the task on to Wally.
Chase opened the first envelope, and I watched his face as he read the words silently to himself. His eyes were shining when he looked up at Izzy, who was standing beside me, her arm wrapped around my waist and her head tucked under my arm.
“Thank you, baby.”
“You gotta read it out loud,” she said.
Shaking his head, he chuckled. “I’ll be blubbering like a fool.”
“C’mon, Dad.”
A chorus of groans and pleas filled the room, the loudest of which was Diane.
“For crissakes. Read the damn note.”
It got silent for a second, and when everyone’s eyes landed on her, Diane pointed a finger at Wally. “It’s his fault. He did this to me.”
The second round of laughter was even louder.
“All right, I’ll read it aloud, but I’m not standing.”
He cleared his throat several times, and I knew he was trying to steady his voice.
When I was only six years old, you got down on bended knee
And asked if I’d accept your hand and give thought to your plea
You promised to become my dad, and said you’d always be there.
You didn’t lie. You showed me then for me you’d always care.
When I was eight you married Mom, and a family we became
You and Mom and Zac and me, and you loved me just the same.
When I was eleven, life fell apart and we lived in different homes,
And even though I was not your girl, you loved me as your own.
But life is funny, as we can see, and here we are again
I love you Chase, but I need more and not just as a friend.
The room was silent when he finished, except for a few sniffles. Chase lifted the cuff of his sleeve and dragged it under his eyes. “Damn, Iz. C’mere.” Izzy rushed into his arms, and he bent and kissed the top of her head. “Oh, man.” He wiped his eyes again as Izzy returned to my side.
Chase held up the envelope, which was larger than the first one. “Is this going to make me cry too?”
At that Quinn let out a yowl.
“That’s what she said,” Dylan responded. Chase laughed and wiped his eyes.
Zac, who was hanging onto the side of Chase’s chair, leaned in to see the second envelope. “Is this one from you, buddy? You going to make me cry now?”
Zac threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know what it is.” Chase pressed a kiss to his head, then tore open the envelope, and pulled out several pages that had been stapled together. On the front was an almost blank cover sheet. He read aloud the words neatly printed on the first page.
It’s time we make this official.
For the briefest moment, confusion flooded his face, but what replaced it, looked a lot like raw hope. Through the blur of tears, his eyes sought out mine, and I knew what he was asking me. I gave him a slight nod, unable to contain my smile. He flipped the cover sheet and stared at the large print on the next page.
“How?” he asked after a few moments. It was one word. One syllable. But his voice was thick and nearly broke. He stood and as he opened his arms, Izzy flew into them. The papers floated to the floor, landing face up, their meaning clear to everyone: Petition for Adoption.
The silent room filled with voices. A few gasps. A sob or two. I was crying. Diane was gulping back tears, but what touched me most was the smile on the tear-stained face of Chase’s mother. Even Lorraine’s eyes were unusually bright.
Chase cupped Izzy’s wet cheeks in his big hands and tilted her face up to his. “I’ve always felt like your father, sweetheart, but I’d be honored to make it official.” He was crying too, but didn’t seem to care in the least. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she sobbed into the front of his shirt, leaving dark wet blotches.
“How?” he asked me again, over her head.
Since my daughter was currently incapable of answering, I did it for her.
“Jeff has agreed to give up his parental rights. Izzy called him herself and explained that she wanted you to adopt her. She promised she would keep in touch with him and his parents, but let him know that other than biologically and legally, you were her father. He agreed.”
I didn’t add how proud I was of my daughter, or I’d be blubbering as well. I’d done that weeks ago when I sat beside her and held her hand while she talked to Jeff. And when he got on the phone with me, and told me that Chase and I had done an amazing job raising her, I couldn’t help puffing up. Izzy was a terrific kid, and she had a heart big enough to encompass everyone. The fact that she held no resentment toward Jeff and his absence in her life was proof that she had everything she needed. I thought ahead to her wedding day and pictured her walking down the aisle, maybe with both of them by her side.
Nothing would surprise me when it came to my girl.
After everyone had gone home, and Chase had tucked our kids into bed for the night and then fallen asleep himself, I sat in the living room, nursing Quinn and reflecting on my life as the multicolored lights reflected on the glass of the large picture window.
It would be our last Christmas in this house, which held so many memories. Some bad, but mostly good. In an odd way, I’d grown up here. And so had Chase.
A floorboard in the hall creaked under a heavy footstep, followed by a yawn.
“You almost done?”
I looked at the sleeping angel in my arms. “Yes. She drank herself into a milk coma.”
Chuckling, he planted a soft kiss on her tiny head, and then another on my lips. “Go put her down, and meet me back here.”
I settled Quinn into her bassinet, and returned to the living room to find Chase wearing a coat and shoes.
“Hurry up and grab your coat. It’s almost midnight. We still have a few minutes left to our anniversary.”
He had to be kidding. “It’s freezing out there.”
“Right, so put on your coat. Let’s go.” He nudged me toward the door.
I tugged my parka from the closet and put it on, then added a hat and gloves. Chase opened the patio door and led me out into the back yard where I saw a blanket spread out on the dead winter grass, the bottle of champagne he’d tucked into the refrigerator earlier, and two coffee mugs.
He pulled me down onto the blanket next to him and handed me a mug. “I couldn’t find any champagne glasses.”
“They’re already packed.”
I was shivering, but his sweet slow grin warmed me on the inside. “Then this will have to do.”
He popped the cork on the champagne and poured until he’d practically filled each mug.
“Here’s to us, Rain. To life. To new beginnings every day. To happily ever after.”
Our glasses clinked and in the distance, over his head, a star shot across the sky. The Geminids, of cour
se, but in my heart, it was my dad careening across the heavens. Chase hadn’t forgotten.
I rose up to my knees and kissed him until his warmth flooded through my veins. I pressed my nose to his.
“To happily ever after.”
The End
This part of the book should be called “Counting My Blessings,” because that’s what I’m doing here. A simple “thank you” isn’t enough; each and every one of you are truly blessings.
I dedicated this book to two special women: Whitney Barbetti and Jenn Holter. Whitney is one of the best writers I know and has become a treasured friend. She’s helped me in so many ways. If it weren’t for her, I’m not sure many of you would even know my name. Thank you, Whitney, for always being there to answer a question, tweak an ad, sprint with me, or be my sounding board.
Jenn Holter, I’d be lost without you. But then, you already know that. You are crazy talented and organized (I mean it!), and you leave me in awe. You not only make my writing life much smoother, you’ve become a treasured friend. You are the very best, and I love you to pieces.
Lori Ryser, again you come through in the clinch and make sure every last word is perfect. One of these days, hopefully soon, I’m going to hug you so hard! Remind me to send Diana Gabaldon and Lisa Clark O’Neil a thank-you note.
As always, thank you to my line editor, Lisa Poisso. You made me dig much deeper with Miss February and Mrs. February, and I’m so glad you did. I truly understand the value of a good editor, and I’m so lucky I found one. Onward!
Garrett Cimms, thanks for being the best cover designer and son a mother could wish for. You’re a regular two-for-one deal, and I love you.
To my dear friend Kerry Palumbo, I’m so glad I sent Garrett to Marian where you and I met. Thank you for your friendship, your love, and your support. And once again, thank you for tweaking my back cover copy.
Karla Sorensen, thank you too for help with my back cover copy. Between you and Kerry, I’m pretty lucky.