Five Years Later

“My ticket says Moscow. I’m supposed to be going to the United States.”

We are in France, where I’ve just spent a month dancing Swan Lake for Maison Nationale de la Danse, and I want to go home and see my husband.

“Je suis désolé, Madame. Permmetez-moi de verifier.”

I sigh deeply. “Merci,” I say.

My daughter pulls on my hand, and I let her lead me away, praying the agent straightens out our flight.

It’s our five-year anniversary, and if this French guy doesn’t get me there, I’m prepared to throw one hell of a hissy fit.

“Mommy, look at the fountain. It has crystal rocks on the bottom of it.”

We make our way toward the center of the airport terminal, and lo and behold, there is a fountain with crystals sparkling from under the water.

“It’s beautiful, London. How did you know this was here?”

“Daddy showed me,” she says with a mischievous smile that I’ve seen many times on her father’s face over the past six years of our marriage.

“Daddy hasn’t been here with you, sweetheart, but we were in Russia last fall. Is that what you’re thinking of?”

She’s seen more places in her short five years than most people have their entire lives, traveling with her father and me.

No two people have ever had such a hectic schedule as River and me, but we make it work, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.

It’s at times like this, when things aren’t falling into place as planned, that I yearn for the life of a stay-at-home mother and wife.

“No, Mommy, he showed it to me today,” she says and jumps up and down with wide, excited eyes.

“What’s going on here, little lady?” I ask, tilting my head and narrowing my eyes at her with suspicion.

I’m convinced that London is going to explode with elation when I feel warm hands slide over my eyes from behind.

“Happy Anniversary, Pretty Dancer.”

I shriek, drawing the attention of all the travelers entering and exiting the Paris International Airport.

“River! You’re here. How did you get away? I thought you had—” His mouth covers mine, quite effectively shutting me up with a kiss that curls my toes and heats my core.

When he allows me up for air, London takes both of our hands.

“Let’s celebrate!” she shouts.

“But, our tickets? I thought we were meeting you at home.”

“Nope, change of plans. We are spending the weekend here, and then you can go directly to Moscow for your class instead of coming all the way home first.”

“So my tickets aren’t wrong?”

“Nope, I slipped the ticket guy a tip to play along.”

I playfully slap his chest, and he slides his hands down my back to my ass.

“You’re not going to get into trouble for being gone so close to your first game?”

“Nope, I got Coach’s permission.”

“Well aren’t you just sneaky?”

“Me too, I’m sneaky too, Mommy. I kept it a secret the whole time.”

“And we’ve been here four weeks. That’s excellent secret keeping,” I say, complimenting my beautiful daughter.

London is the perfect combination of River and me. She has my grace and poise, and she has her father’s quick wit and intelligence. Not to mention, she’s drop-dead gorgeous and a very successful child model, with a little help from her daddy.

London has as many obligations as River and me, so we decided on a home school program for pre-school, although none of it has been done at home.

“Let’s go to the secret chateau that Daddy rented for the weekend and have a secret dinner and tell a certain someone a really big secret,” River says.

I don’t know about the secret chateau or dinner, but the really big secret we have to tell her is that she is going to be a big sister seven months from now.

“I know one of those secrets,” I say conspiratorially.

“Oh! Daddy, you promised you wouldn’t tell her anything. We shook on it and everything,” she says and wags her finger at him.

“I didn’t tell. This is Mommy’s and my secret for you.”

She places her hand on her hip and taps her foot while she thinks about this.

“Okay, I like surprises. Let’s go!” she says.

She’s been begging for a sibling for three years, but the timing had to be perfect for our hectic lifestyle.

There’s never a perfect time to have a baby, but now is as good as ever. I have a light schedule for the next eighteen months, so we figured we had better strike while the iron is hot . . . and boy, was it hot.

For two people who don’t live in the same house, state, or even country most of the time, we sure found a lot of creative ways to make a baby.

We spend time at home every year for six weeks during River’s off-season, Katherine and Frank insist that we stay with them in their house, even though ours is minutes away.

It’s my favorite part of the year—family dinners, kids running everywhere, screaming and laughing and oodles of love.

My parents and my sister even join us for family dinner occasionally. Things aren’t ideal for us, but they are better than they ever have been, so I can’t complain.

Misty and her kids are always there too. They came back from Italy, where they were hiding from David, when he went to jail for drug trafficking. It turns out he wasn’t just an abusive husband and father. He was a lowlife drug dealer too.

Our life consists of one long, crazy scrimmage where we have to scrap and fight for our time together, and sometimes, River calls a Fair Catch to protect us like he said he would six years ago.