So Much More (40 page)

I felt like a mom, because while it was all happening I was in love with my kids. Real, deep down, love free of plot, or ploy, or misguided intention. It was pure. I didn’t think I was capable of pure, but I am. I really am.

It’s Sunday evening now. Seamus just picked up the kids. Which leaves me here, sitting in my living room, with a glass of wine, thinking about my life. So many regrets. So many lies. So much pain I caused. I feel like I don’t know that person anymore.
Thank God
. And how lucky I am that despite all that’s happened over the years, I finally have a respectful friendship with my ex-husband—which was a long time coming and hard earned, not that I blame him at all—a loving relationship with my kids, a few good friends, and some newfound self-love and dignity. I’m my own get out of hell free card. It’s of my own volition that good things happen. Effort and intent, that’s what it boils down to. You try or you don’t. It’s good or it’s bad.

I’m trying my ass off.

And I prefer good.

I know that sounds like a sack of self-help, Mary Poppins bullshit, but it’s true.

Do good or die trying.

That’s my new proud-to-be-a-do-gooder rebel motto.

What an unbelievably beautiful circumstance to be in

future

Seamus looks so handsome in black pinstripe pants and a white dress shirt, casually untucked with cuffs rolled up to his elbows. His feet are bare, as are mine. We’re standing on the W…E mat in the sand surrounded by Kai, Rory, Kira, Hope, and a few friends. Benito is standing before us, bible in his hands, proudly doing his ordained—at least for the day—duties.

And when it’s my turn to make my promise, I gaze into Seamus’s dark chocolate eyes that lead straight to his soul, smile through my happy tears and I say, “We. What an unbelievably beautiful circumstance to be in. I do.”

To which he promises, “So much more than I do.”

Epilogue

Love explained

Ask one hundred people to explain love.

And you’ll get one hundred different answers.

Because love is like art, it’s subjective.
 

Fluid.
 

Ever-changing.

Evolving.

Case in point…

Love is real.

It’s not make believe, like Santa Claus or Vegas. It’s substance and heart, full of wish-granting potential.

It’s my children.

And my choices.

It’s effort.

And compassion.

It’s so damn real.

And if only fools believe in love...call me a fool.

Love is strange when you think about it. It comes out of nowhere. There’s no logic to it. It’s not methodical. It’s not scientific. It’s pure emotion and passion. And emotion and passion can be beautiful, because they fuel love.

I’m an enthusiastic connoisseur of love—an expert through immersion. I know it intimately.

When I fell in love with Faith it was slow and cautious. I was bitter and jaded by divorce.

But she turned into my dreams.

And my dreams turned into reality.
   

And love.

So much more than love.

Love is instinct driven, heart over mind. It can be defined. I knew it when I felt it, because it was so bone-jarringly beautiful.

So much more than bone-jarringly beautiful.

And its name is We.

Seamus and me.

Acknowledgments

I love this part, because my heart loves thank you’s.
 

My first thank you is for
you
. So much more than thank you for reading this book. I’m hugging you, I hope you can feel it because I’m squeezing super tight. It’s my Faith hug to you.

So much more than thank you to my mom for being brave. She was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was seven. I don’t really remember her without it. MS was always part of her. A part of our family. But here’s the thing, it was never something to be feared or worried on. Why? Because my mom is a warrior and has never let it get the better of her. She’s kicked its ass every day for thirty-six years. Does she live in constant pain? Yes. Has she gone through periods of weeks or months of it amping up the fight and really attacking her? Yes. But when that happens you know what she does?
She fights harder
. Because my mom is fierce and the bravest person I know. Thank you for always fighting. For you. And for your family. I love you, Mom.

So much more than thank you to my beta readers: Lindsey Burdick, Amy Donnelly, Allison Dunnings, CM Foss, Gemma Hitchen, BN Toler, and Janet Wallace, for taking time out of your busy lives to help me make something of this story and the characters in my head. But more than that, thank you for your friendship. I love you, you badasses.

So much more than thank you to Amy Donnelly at Alchemy of Words for being a jack of all trades. From editing, to interior design, to teasers, to the trailer, to daily therapy sessions—you do it all. I cannot thank you enough, my coffee drinking, taco eating soul sister.

So much more than thank you to Monica Stockbridge for editing yet another book for me. This makes four. I love having you on my side to make sense of my stories, even when I can’t. You’re the best.

So much more than thank you to Brandon Hando for another beautiful cover. This one was hard. Thank you for putting up with me randomly throwing ideas at you every ten minutes…and then changing my mind five minutes later. Your patience is legendary. Like you. And a big hug to Andi Hando for taking approximately five hundred photos for the cover before we got the awkward hug just right. Two point two seconds of sunlight is hard to capture and make magic out of—I still owe you a classy Waffle House dinner for pulling it off. Love you both.
 

So much more than thank you to my agent Jane Dystel at Dystel & Goderich Literary Agency for your ongoing support of not only my work, but of me. And a shout out to Lauren Abramo, as well, for all that you do. I appreciate you both so very much.

So much more than thank you to my mom and dad for cheering my on for forty-three years. I love you.

So much more than thank you to B. and P. for being the best husband and son in the history of husbands and sons. I count my lucky stars every day that we are a family—what an unbelievably beautiful circumstance to be in. So much more than I love you.

So much more than thank you to the musicians on this book’s playlist for inspiring me and driving the direction of this story. I can’t write without you.

And last, but definitely not least, so much more than thank you to every reader, every blogger, every fellow author, and every member of the Bright Side family who has supported me and my crazy dream of writing. The love in the book community is intense and so very real; I feel it in my bones. Your friendship means the world to me. It’s my mission in life to hug each and every one of you in person. Until then I’m gathering you all up into one gigantic hug in my mind and squeezing you tight. Love you all.

So Much More

Playlist

“Caroline” Kill It Kid

“Slow Dancing in a Burning Room” John Mayer

“Heartless” The Fray

“Lies” Sunset Sons

“Do I Wanna Know?” Arctic Monkeys

“Unsteady” X Ambassadors

“The Sickness” Future Husbands

“Leave It Alone” Manchester Orchestra

“Low Life” (featuring Jamie N. Commons) X Ambassadors

“Win Some, Lose Some” You Me At Six

“Never Ending Circles” Chvrches

“A Home Without a Heart” Future Husbands

“Trip Switch” Nothing But Thieves

“Incomplete” James Bay

“Brave the Day” Like Thieves

“Down to the Cellar” Dredg

“Let It Go” James Bay

“From Above” The Beach

“Out of the Blue” Prides

“Love, Love, Love” As Tall As Lions

Miranda’s Motherfucking Monkey Bread

Ingredients:

¾ cup sugar

1 ½ tsp cinnamon

4 cans refrigerated buttermilk biscuits

1 cup sugar

¼ cup packed brown sugar

¾ cup butter (Don’t forget the fucking butter!)

1/3 cup evaporated milk

1 ½ tsp cinnamon

¼ tsp nutmeg (Optional.)

1/3 cup raisins or 1 cup diced green apple (Take them or leave them—it’s your call.)

Directions: