Ready For You (36 page)

My consciousness stirred as my eyes slowly lifted. Soft light filtered through a window, and my gaze shifted, taking in the warm sun-kissed color of the walls and the dark furniture.
 

I was home.
 

I’d dreamed of her again. This time though, she hadn’t walked away from me in the satin sea of caps and gowns. She’d walked toward me.
 

I slumped back on my pillow and exhaled, feeling peaceful and relaxed.
 

It had been a busy week. Besides the party-planning, blueprints had to be completed for the next phase of the housing development I had been hired to design. Semester grades were due, and my sexy wife was nose deep in grading tests and parent-teacher conferences. She loved every minute though. Just as I’d thought, she was an amazing teacher, and her choral students adored her. I was fairly certain a few of those pimple-faced preteens even had a bit of a crush on my beautiful wife, not that I blamed them.

My hands searched the warm flannel sheets and came up empty. I looked to the right and found nothing.
 

Where was she?

Rising quickly, I tugged on a pair of pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, and then I headed down the stairs where I could already hear the sweet humming sounds of her voice as she sang “Happy Birthday.” Turning into the kitchen, I found her dancing around in one of my old T-shirts, making a goofball of herself, as Asher giggled and cooed. Sneaking up behind her, I slipped my hands around her waist. She yelped in surprise and laughed, relaxing into my chest.
 

“You weren’t in bed.” I pouted.

“Someone needed to be fed,” she said.

She pointed to Asher whose face still made me melt every single time I saw it.
 

“Someone is an attention hog. Where’s my breakfast?” I asked, looking around at the mess she’d created.
 

Mia had learned a few things in the three years we’d been married. She could make a couple of dishes now without lighting the kitchen on fire, but she’d never learned the art of tidiness. The kitchen looked as if it had blown up flour.
 

“It’s not your birthday, grumpy,” she pointed out, flipping the slightly burned pancake on the griddle.
 

“Hmm…maybe I’ll have cereal.”

She turned to give me the evil eye and slapped my ass as I made my way to the other side of the kitchen.
 

Asher yelled, “Da!” He made his grabby hands, which resembled tiny pinchers on a crab.
 

I smiled, loving the sound of my child calling out to me. It was a sound I’d thought I would never hear, yet here we were, celebrating his first birthday. I picked Asher up from his highchair and rocked him on my hip while Mia made subpar pancakes, and I realized how lucky I was, how fortunate I’d been.
 

I’d learned that our lives could be plotted out by pivotal moments in time. My life with Mia had been a journey, an endless string of moments and memories that kept moving us forward, propelling us to a future neither of us could imagine.

As I’d sat in that homeroom class so many years ago, staring at the girl who would one day be my wife, I’d had no idea how important that moment would become. She was the first girl I’d ever noticed and the only woman I’d wanted since. I’d thought she’d broken me on that deserted, rain-soaked street and that I’d never recover. When I’d found her on that crowded street at the farmers’ market, I’d known I would never be able to let her go again.
 

Every moment of our lives had brought us to this one and the countless others that would follow.

“So, little dude,” I said as he grabbed on to my nose and giggled, “are you ready to celebrate?”

~Mia~

Seeing Garrett hold our son never failed to make my heart stutter and swell with pride. He took Asher upstairs, and I set my sights on the kitchen, hoping I could get the breakfast mess cleaned by the time everyone arrived for Asher’s birthday party.
 

Our little boy was turning one today.
 

I was a mother.
 

I’d known this fact for a year now, longer actually, but it still amazed me. It was something I’d never thought was possible, but I’d quickly learned that nothing in life was impossible. I’d known adoption was an avenue we could explore, but I’d also known it was difficult, expensive, and full of challenges.
 

After Garrett had proposed to me by the river on that cold winter evening in the exact spot he’d dropped to one knee so many years earlier, my heart was complete. I wouldn’t need anything else in the world as long as I had him.

“What are we doing here?” I asked.
 

He stopped the car at our favorite spot by the river. The trees were now bare and statuesque in their grayish wintery state. Garrett grabbed his trusty blanket out of the back of the car, and we started down the path toward the water.

“I thought a little bit of alone time with our favorite spot might be nice,” he said.

“In thirty-degree weather?” I asked, rubbing my hands together. I shoved them in my pockets.
 

I saw him smirk as he unfolded the blanket and spread it across the cold ground. He sat down and motioned for me to do the same.

“You want me to sit down on the frozen ground?” I added.

“Mmhmm,” he said, smoothing out the blanket suggestively.
 

I rolled my eyes and planted my butt down on the cold earth next to him, yelping as my jean-clad ass hit the icy blanket.
 

“See? Not that bad, right?”

I just glared my answer back at him, but then I gasped as soon as he bent forward on his knees and propped one forward.
 

Holy shit. He was on one knee…and he just pulled out a ring box.
 

I suddenly didn’t care about my ass anymore. Just like the first time, I went to my knees and mimicked his position so that our noses were touching.
 

He laughed. “Some things don’t change.”
 

I stared down at the ring box, and then my eyes drifted up to his. “No, they don’t.”
 

“I’ve been agonizing for weeks, trying to find the perfect place to ask you. That sham of a housewarming party was all for show. I was supposed to propose that night, but all my meticulous plans got botched. I’ve been scrambling all week, attempting to come up with something. Then, you made that comment about our past and present colliding, and I realized I already had the perfect spot.”

“Here,” I said.

“Here,” he confirmed.

He opened the ring box and nestled inside was a perfect representation of everything we’d been through.

“When did you do this?” I asked.
 

He’d somehow managed to take my original engagement ring and added to it.
 
He’d combined three stones, adding a larger stone in the middle and two smaller stones on either side—past, present and future.
 

“A few weeks ago. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. It’s been missing from your jewelry box for a while now. I’ve been sweating bullets ever since I stole it. The smaller stone to the left is your original stone.”

“It’s beautiful, Garrett,” I said, tears trickling down my face.
 

“When I ask you this time, it’s forever, Mia. No matter what life throws at us, we will go through it together.”

I nodded as he took the delicate ring out of its box, and he placed it on the tip of my finger.

“Mia Emerson, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes.”

Six months later, on a Southern plantation overlooking the James River, Garrett and I had finally become husband and wife.
 

Looking down at my bridal set, I smiled, remembering my father walking me down the aisle and feeling nothing but peace, happiness, and hope.
 

I’d never expected anything more than that moment, and I never asked for it. A year later, Garrett had brought up adoption, and I had felt almost scared to ask for more.
 

We were happy. Did we deserve to ask for more?

He had explained to me that when two people had as much love as we did, it needed to be shared.
 

So, we had turned to adoption.
 

We’d found open adoption to be the right path for us, and the young girl who had chosen us was wonderful. She’d allowed us to attend every doctor’s appointment and even be present at the birth. Seeing our child being born had been the most precious gift she could have given us.
 

She was young, so very young, and she had chosen to walk away completely. We had given her other options, but she’d said anything else would be too hard. It was an extremely grown-up decision, and we had respected her wishes. I’d been in her shoes—even though I’d had Garrett and she had been alone—but I remembered feeling overwhelmed from the grown-up decision that had been too much for my age.
 

When I’d held Asher Thomas Finnegan in my arms for the first time, I’d fallen instantly in love with him.
 

He was a little miracle.
 

I finished cleaning the kitchen and ran upstairs to make myself presentable. Then, the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of our first party guest.
 

“We’ll get it!” Garrett yelled from the hallway.
 

I exhaled in relief. I was nowhere near ready, and I was pretty sure I still had flour in my fingernails.
 

The doorbell chimed several more times as I ran around, putting on a flattering pair of jeans and a gauzy top. I finished the look off with some jewelry and wedged sandals, and then I flew down the stairs.
 

Everyone was gathered around Garrett and Asher. Our little boy was dressed in adorable jeans and a cute little vest. He’d grown so much since the day I held him in my arms for the first time. I remembered holding his tiny foot in my hand as he’d stared up at me.
 

“Our little guy needs a name,” Garrett said softly.

I rocked our son back and forth and smiled up at Garrett from the chair.
 

“Asher,” I answered, rising carefully from the rocker as I held our little bundle.
 

I gently handed him to Garrett and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as I watched him tense. Asher was so small. His tiny head looked like a doll in comparison to Garrett’s massive frame.

“Asher,” he repeated, as he took him in his arms. “I like that.”

“It means “happy and blessed.”

Our birthday boy was passed around the room from laps to waiting arms. Clare cooed and made him laugh as she covered up her eyes in a game of peekaboo. I saw her look up at Logan with a knowing smile.
 

Perhaps Maddie and Ollie would be getting a new sibling soon?

Leah and Declan played blocks with Asher on the floor, and they laughed as he knocked down their carefully built towers each time. It was one of his favorite games.
 

My father rocked Asher back and forth when he got sleepy and put him down for a nap with the help of Garrett’s mother.
 

“Where’s Liv?” I asked suddenly, realizing we weren’t yet complete.

“Oh, she just called. She said a new neighbor was moving in next door and blocking her driveway with the moving van. She should be here any minute.”
 

Oh boy, a new neighbor? That could be interesting.
 

She showed up not more than five minutes later, carrying a tray of veggies and hummus. She told me the heroic tale of how she’d managed to get her car out of her driveway despite the rude new neighbor she had.
 

Lunch was ready. Everyone grabbed plates and served themselves from the kitchen. Nothing was ever fancy at our house, especially now that we were parents. I was proud of myself for managing to go to the store to pick up prepared chicken salad and for showering all in one day.
 

My once stark and empty house was now filled with color, warmth, and family. Every wall showed a glimpse from our past that had brought us to this moment. As we sat Asher in his high chair and watched him demolish his birthday cake, I couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed.

“Hey, you okay?” Garrett asked, pulling me against his chest.

I snapped another picture of Asher and finally turned to Garrett. “We did this,” I said.

His eyes softened, and he smiled. “Yeah, we did.”
 

He bent down and placed a tender kiss on my eager lips, and I melted into his touch.
 

I’d walked away from love and felt my heart shatter. I’d spent eight years bottling up the pain and heartache from those emotional events.
 
I thought I was in control, but when you are running from your life, you’re never the one in control.
 

I never understood why I ended up driving back down that familiar highway, to the one place I swore I’d never return.
 
Seeing Garrett standing on that street corner had been like a long overdue jolt to my heart.
 
An awakening I so desperately needed.
 
He saved me.
 
He saved me by loving me and showing me that it was okay to once again love myself.
 

Love is many things. It’s every raw human emotion all rolled up into one messy four letter word.
 
There’s no rule book and definitely no guarantees. But as I stood there in Garrett’s arms, with our friends and family in a house we made a home, I knew that no matter what life threw at us, we’d always get by with just a little bit of love, hope and happiness.