Our craft also turns out great. It’s an empty tin can that has been Cinderella-fied into a pen holder for my desk at work. I’ve painted it yellow per Theo’s request, and she has added her own touches to it. There are more hearts, of course, as well as various stickers, some of which are shiny red letters that crookedly spell out, ‘I love you.’
Oh, to think of all the poor bastards in the world whose pens and pencils and highlighters won’t have as special a home as mine will.
I can’t take it with me just yet, though, because Ms. Louisa wants to be sure all painted crafts are dry before they get moved into anyone’s vehicles. Therefore, when the hour wraps up, I have nothing to gather except a goodbye from Theo.
After we have exchanged our words of love, I excitedly remind her of what Noelle and I announced to her this morning, after a long couple weeks of her begging for updates.
“I’ll see you soon—because when you get done with school today, your house will be my house!”
She gasps and goes as wide-eyed as she did way back when she first learned of the plan to move me in with them.
“Yes, yes, yes!” She jumps up and down, then picks back up on the hug we just ended. “You will stay with us forever! We will be together all the time!”
It’s hard to smack a kiss to her hair while I’m grinning, but I manage. “That’s right! I’m so excited!”
“Me too!”
Now she tries to jump up and down while still hugging me, and even though it’s a clumsy action, it still makes me laugh.
I have a feeling this sunny mood will stay with me for the rest of my time away from her and Noelle.
And I turn out to be right.
Stupid traffic doesn’t anger me, even when one dude spends half my route driving on my ass.
My dense workload can’t dampen my spirits.
When five o’clock comes around, I’m not bothered by the small eternity I spent in the hot heat of my car while the air conditioner wakes back up.
I am solid.
Somehow, I feel even more solid when I get to the house, because I find Noelle and Theo smiling and playing in the front yard, the perfect picture of a happy family—my happy family.
I feel better yet when it becomes clear they’ve been waiting on me to arrive; they’re so ready to greet me that they’re next to my car door before I’ve even gotten the engine turned off. It’s hard not to tangle my feet up and bust my ass in my hurry to get out and hug them.
And then, momentarily, there’s the final detail.
The icing on the cake.
The sprinkle of flaky salt on The Chocolate Shop’s caramels.
The guacamole on the nachos at Wings by Del.
As I slow my steps to a stop near the house, I squeeze Noelle’s hand and let my eyes shift back and forth, back and forth, back and forth between the front door and Theo’s enthusiastic gesturing at it.
The gold banner hanging there reads, ‘WELCOME HOME!’
It would be a lie to say it doesn’t put a fierce lump in my throat.
And it would be a lie to say I’ve never felt welcome or at home with anyone else—the guy responsible for these girls being in my life was every bit as much a safe place for me as they are.
The truth, though?
I don’t only love this sight, or what it means, or Noelle and Theo, or Cliff.
I also love who I am.
I’m standing here in this moment because of who I am. I kept up my friendship with Cliff and then with Noelle, regardless of how dark things got. I learned from them, not minding that it took time and effort. I stood by the things that were important to me. I listened to my heart even when it was difficult to do.
Sometimes people can’t imagine the future being bright anywhere. They just don’t have any fucking clue how things could possibly get better, how anyone could care about them, how they could ever get to a point where they’re thankful to be alive. But it happens—it happens.
It has happened to me.
I didn’t quit. I fought. I went where life beckoned. I allowed myself to heal and discovered I could help others heal too.
And because of that, I’m here, a mosaic of everything bad and good I’ve experienced.
I’m more complete than I ever thought I could be.
I really am home.
—
As the month of May drifts along, more fun colors our lives.
Since Noelle can’t find a class to join this late in the dance year, she has been dancing along with different videos on YouTube, and she loves it. I mean, she loves it. She has a blast whether she follows tutorials made for learning or flat-out teaches herself the choreography from certain routines she admires. And I always have a blast watching her go—the same is sometimes true for Theo, though she often gets bored with the music staying the same for so long. She gets enough of that in her classes.
Man, the way Noelle looks while she does that stuff, her eyes all radiant and her cheeks pink and her skin glistening with sweat…it does something to me. Sexy though she always is in her leggings and sports bra, she’s also so happy to be reconnecting with her passion even in an untraditional way, and I love how it looks on her. It loosens up a part of her that I’m sad to know was closed off for so many years, because it’s the equivalent of me being cut off from working with computers or Theo being unable to color; when something is important to someone, they should get to enjoy it.
She thanks me all the time for encouraging her to get back to it.
She cried about it once, even.
Touched my heart like crazy.
Something else dance-related that has the house full of excitement is Theo’s recital. It’s the weekend before my birthday, and I learn exactly how much goes into the whole event; along with the excitement comes a certain amount of stress. Not only do professional pictures, hectic stage practices, and very specific costume details take up days before the big show, but the show itself has a whole other side to it that regular audience members don’t see. When I attended last year for Theo’s very first one, I knew a lot of work had to have gone into it, but I certainly didn’t realize things like how long it takes to style a kid’s hair to perfection or that there isn’t only one shade of pink or tan tights. And to think it only gets crazier the more routines a dancer has to keep up with.
We know we’re in for such a good time, though.
Noelle and I recently concocted an idea for an adult dance class with other parents of students and maybe even Ceceli, so before the recital starts, she speaks to the studio owner about meeting up soon to discuss potential plans for that in the fall. The lady is wildly supportive of the idea. That improves our moods even more, and Noelle’s parents’ arrival adds to it because she can’t keep the news to herself.
The four of us sit together and are soon enjoying the show. We chat lightly between routines, most of which are truly entertaining; several of the more graceful ones have Noelle clasping her hands to her chest while she looks on with an appreciation that only the soul of a dancer could have. And then Theo’s first performance comes around and has us riveted like never before. It’s ballet, so she looks adorable in her fancy blue costume, plus she does pretty well with the steps—and of course she’s one of the most enthusiastic dancers in her class.
Noelle and I take a break from the audience after that to find Theo and tell her how much fun it was to watch her. She’s a ball of energy in a tutu, beyond excited, a bottomless well of hugs that are hard to pull away from. Still, I grin all the way back to my seat while the girls get the change to the tap outfit underway.
But when that routine comes around, Theo switches from energetic to sweet because a girl next to her starts crying about thirty seconds in. Theo stops dancing and comforts her, complete with a hug and a pat of her back, and it actually helps. The girl ends up being calm enough that when the routine gets restarted, she appears to be ready to do it in full.
Through the watery wobble of her oncoming tears, Noelle warns t
he people closest to us, “Just so you know, we’re gonna be really loud when the dance is over. That’s our little angel up there and we’re so proud.”
If I weren’t determined to catch every second of the performance, I’d take the time to kiss her in happy agreement.
And yeah, we do not use our inside voices when the dance ends with blown kisses and cute poses. Noelle jumps up and down and boisterously cheers Theo’s name and, “I love you!” along with me, Gail, and Grant.
It’s safe to say we make more noise than anyone else does, though I suspect the next loudest members of the audience are the family of the girl who cried.
Theo is aglow as she starts filing off the stage with her classmates.
She yells back, “I love you, Mommy and Daddy! I have to go now, bye!”
That sends laughter rippling through the audience and straight-up bursting out of me and Noelle. We’re goofy with pride and glee as we hurry out of our seats to go find our cutie backstage again.
Once we’ve got her, squeals and compliments and hugs and pictures abound. Another happy mom offers to take a picture of all three of us, so of course we situate Theo in one of my arms and Noelle under the other and take her up on that.
I realize when I see it that Noelle and I are luminous, too, not just Theo.
It looks every bit as amazing as it feels.
—
That amazing feeling clung to us for the rest of the day.
The rest of the weekend.
Into the work week.
By the time Tuesday morning shows up and brings my twenty-eighth birthday with it, I feel like we’ve been living in the clouds.
I know we’ll come down at some point. Our moods will falter from something somewhere. It’s just a fact that sunny joy has to share the sky with heavy storm clouds.
But oh, the joy.
It demands to be lived in, so live in it we do.
Noelle and I live in it between the sheets of our bed, between kisses and heated whispers, between waves of pleasure.
We and Theo live in it over breakfast and upbeat music from the Bluetooth speaker.
I live in it at work because I keep spotting the pencil cup Theo made for me, and birthday wishes steadily stream in from my coworkers, and I get taken out to a fun lunch by Blaze, with whom my friendship has officially started growing over the last month.
And Noelle’s family and I live in that joy when dinnertime comes around. On top of gifting me with some cash to spend as I please, her parents insist on treating us to the Italian place we’ve come to love.
My day wraps up with a movie at home, snuggled up in the air conditioning with the two most perfect human beings in the world after they’ve given me gifts of their own—which include a superhero card and, of course, a box of my favorite confections.
The smaller of my girls falls asleep before the end of How To Train Your Dragon. The other lowers the volume and then lets her slow fingers skate over the front of my shirt, up my neck, along the side of my face, down my arm, across my fingers.
With my eyes closed, I hum in satisfaction; we’ve seen this movie before, so I’m not missing anything.
The light pat of her hand over my heart has me opening them back up.
“Have you had a good birthday?” she murmurs.
I turn my head her way, then kiss the bridge of her nose. “The best. I’ve loved every minute of it.”
She smiles at me through the TV-lit darkness. “That makes me happy.”
“Me too!”
Giggling, she shifts in for a real kiss.
After the warm pull of it has passed, I add, “I’m so grateful for you and Theo. You’re the best gifts.”
“Aw. We feel that way about you. And so, so, grateful that you love us so much.”
She stamps another kiss to my lips. I return the action twofold, which makes her smile again, which makes me smile.
We get back to watching the movie, but we’re soon yawning, so we decide to call it. She deals with the TV while I carry Theo to bed.
However, when I meet back up with her so we can turn in, too, she stops me in the hallway, then leads me to the kitchen instead of the bedroom.
The kitchen that is dark except for one lit candle on the dining table.
My breath catches.
Just like that, I’m transported back to the night we first kissed. I’m hit all over again by the spark of her lips begging for mine, and the intimate cage of this nearly dark room around us, and how I felt both like I couldn’t breathe and had never breathed better in all my years of being alive.
The sense of rushing familiarity burns hotter when I realize she’s easing me by the arm to the very spot we stood in that night, by the edge of the most distant counter.
I love it—love the sentiment of now and the memory of then—though I’m not sure what she has up her sleeve.
Once we’re still and facing each other, she takes both of my hands in hers. In the one she hasn’t been touching me with until this second, I notice the presence of something hard, flat, round.
What is that?
After some quick thought, possibility flickers through my mind, causing my stomach to leap so big it startles me.
No, it’s the possibility that’s startling, because—
“I have one more gift to give you.”
Her words have my breaths stumbling again.
What is she doing? What gift does she have for me that involves a…?
In the faint candlelight, I watch her eyes skip over my face, watch memories of her own play in them, watch her inhale slowly as she squeezes my hands.
The coin presses into my skin—a quarter for sure.
These moments dig into the rest of me.
A few more of them pass before she lets go of me and brings the quarter into view.
My heartbeats are hard and fast as I stare at how she adjusts it in her fingers, but I swear they stop for the entirety of the upward flip of the coin through the open air.
She catches it in her hand and turns it flat against the back of the other. Then she shows me the—oh my God, it’s the—it’s tails, which is the side I—
“So, um,” she says softly, shakily, “a long time ago, after I found out about the first coin toss, he said…just out of curiosity, I asked Cliff which side he called, and he said it was heads. He was heads and you were tails. And I’ve never forgotten that.”
My heart is going to pound right out of my chest.
She knows that I chose tails?
I finally drag my stinging eyes back up to her face.
So honest is the love etched into her expression—so boundless—that I feel like it’s being etched into my cells, my veins, my synapses, my everything.
She takes my hand and tucks the coin into it.
Over the sound of my quickening breaths, I barely hear her whisper, “You won this time.”
It still ricochets inside my head, though.
‘You won this time.’
‘You won this time.’
My fingers shake as I look down at the coin, turning it over and over, to see if it’s….
And it is.
The discovery has me choking on a weak sob.
It’s a double-tails coin.
She knew I chose tails that day at Wings by Del, so she found a double-tails coin to flip for me today. No matter which side landed face-up, it would’ve come up Beckett.
I couldn’t have gotten a heads, because that was Cliff’s side and she knew it.
It could only be tails.
It could only be me.
‘You won this time.’
I blink my gaze to hers again. Her eyes are glistening.
When her hands lift to my face, I damn near gasp about it—paired with everything else happening right now, her touch feels so sharp yet so sweet, like a shockwave rocking through my body.
I’m living for it.
If anything can shake an ocean, it’s an earthquake.
She nears the
edge of giving in to her tears right as I wrap my empty hand around the back of her head so I can haul her into a kiss.
A nearly crushing kiss.
A kiss that burns so hot it does drag a gasp out of us and has me dropping the coin to the floor with a clang we can’t care about because I have to wrench her as tightly to me as I can.
‘You won this time.’
As our kissing melts into a gripping hug, I let the gorgeous meaning of her words wash over me.
I know this coin toss is a gesture—it’s not a real gamble, not like before. I couldn’t have lost it all over again; sure, both sides are tails, but the real importance lies in the fact that I have her heart. And that is precisely what is rattling me in the best possible way.
I didn’t win after all, didn’t beat Cliff in the end, because what I have with Noelle has never been about me trying to claim something I missed out on years ago. She knows that as well as I do, so that’s not what this coin toss is about. No, this is an entirely new toss because she and I have been living a new life. Cliff had her heart before it was shattered, and I accidentally picked it up while it was healing into the shape it would take on next.
Life took all three of us on such a ride.
It was terrifying. Exhilarating. Its pace was impossible to keep up with, often either too slow or too fast. Up and down it went, around and around, higher up than we thought we could go and down into the darkest and loneliest depths.
It was so disorienting to step off that ride with only her. Felt like we couldn’t see straight, couldn’t find our balance, couldn’t move forward.
But we steadied each other.
Together, we adjusted and relearned how to exist in the world.
And I’m proud of us.
I can’t wait to see where life takes us next, because with her at my side, I can handle anything.
Can handle things on my own now, too, though, thanks to her and Cliff and Theo.
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