Clara

Six Weeks Later . . .

This is the life.

“You’ve spoiled me. How will I ever go back to the box stuff when I’ve had a taste of heaven?”

Cruise cracks one eye open. He was trying to get some sleep on the flight home from France, but I’m too excited. Too excited to settle into our new life with my handsome husband and our son.

He opens both eyes, and I’m glad I’m sitting because every time his pools of endless love are directed at me, I still get weak in the knees. “Taste of heaven? Are you talking about me or the mac and cheese?”

“Both. I’m spoiled by both.”

“I know you, Mrs. Cristley.” He kisses the hand he’s holding, keeping it against his lips. “You were talking about the food, but I’m up for the challenge and plan to spoil you for the rest of your life.”

Laughing, I ask, “By spoil, you mean tear through my underwear with abandon?”

“I invested in an underwear company last week.”

“Oh good Lord, we’re in trouble.”

“Trouble. So much trouble, sweet, sexy wife.”

I drag my nails gently over the scruff that shadows his jaw. So damn good looking. “Did I ever tell you how hot you looked saving my life?”

“No. Tell me.”

“How about I show you?” I’m about to slip to my knees to pray at a different altar—his. I’ve already been to hell, so I don’t live in fear of returning for the sins I’m about to commit. Oh wait, we’re married now.

The pilot interrupts my plan. “Please fasten your seatbelts as we start our descent.”

Annoyed, he mutters, “Fuck.”

“Don’t worry, we will. I have all sorts of plans for you when we get home.”

“You are quite the dirty girl these days.”

I shrug. “I can’t help that I have a hot husband.”

“Not any more than I can help how stunningly gorgeous my wife is.”

We sound mushy. After a small ceremony at a church in New Haven, we left for France on the family jet. I figure we deserve all this goodness, so I just sit back and enjoy our love that feels so big we need to express it, and often.

Cruise

I love surprising Clara.

After two weeks traveling around France, we’re both eager to get home, but there is a party to attend, and despite my exhaustion, I’m looking forward to it.

The estate is two miles past the Kingwood Manor, and situated on a tree-lined street among other multi-million dollar mansions. I have a few surprises up my sleeve. Not just for her, but for someone else special to me.

We arrive and walk around to the back, where were greeted by our three-year-old. He runs into Clara’s arms and she swings him around. “Happy birthday, buddy.”

“It’s my birthday,” he exclaims. When her embrace loosens, he reaches for me. “Daddy.”

“Hey there, kid. How are you, birthday boy?”

“I got Legos. And paint. Grandma even let me paint the walls.”

“What? Really?” Clara and I share matching confused looks when I set him down. “You sure?” He starts to pull me, but I stop him, and kneel down. “Can you show me?”

“In the house. She let me paint my walls cuz it’s my room now.”

My mom? “Grandma Cristley?”

He nods. “Come.”

This time the look I send Clara is one of unadulterated happiness. My mother has not only accepted Clara into the family, but treats the son I’ve petitioned to adopt as her own. Most of the Cristleys have come a long way. Some like Fredrick are too far gone.

We swing Toby between us as we walk in the side entrance to the property. Paige comes running toward us, flailing her arms. “Catch him.”

Twenty feet in front of her, a baby papillon is running right for us. Clara squeals and now I hear where Toby gets his deafening pitch from. She immediately sits on the ground and the puppy runs right to her lap. She’s beautiful dressed in yellow with the sunshine on her face. While she’s being covered in puppy kisses, she looks up at me, and asks, “Did you do this?”

“Might have had a hand in it.”

“He’s the most adorable dog I’ve ever seen.”

“The timing couldn’t have been better. He’s from a rescued mom and needed a good home. I got the call when we were in France. Paige helped getting him here.”

Paige breathes a loud sigh of relief and flops down next to Clara. They hug and start chatting about the dog. They’re two peas in a pod these days. Paige also got rid of her boyfriend. Her whole aura has lightened these days. So she tells me.

Although the party is inside, it seems everyone wants to greet us where I stand, my family sitting in the tall grass that surrounds us.

Toby is thrilled to have a dog and has already named him Spot despite Clara’s insistence on Jacque. I’ll let them battle that out.

When I look toward the house, I see the familiar figure of the woman who raised me, and beside her, the woman who loved me enough to gift me to her. That’s what my mom called it the first time she met Christine. She thanked her for the gift of me. Me? The guy who never felt loved was loved enough by two amazing women. Looking down, my dove, my love, smiles up at me. “Thank you.”

I think she’s thanking me for the French breed dog, but it feels like so much more.

We eventually make our way to the house where Toby’s birthday party is being hosted, the celebration was moved outside to appreciate the beautiful day. I can’t help but notice there seem to be more blue-sky days since I met Clara.

A waiter wanders through the party with a tray full of donuts, but when Clara and I see them, we pass. She wraps her arms around me and says, “I don’t need a donut when it comes to us.”

The same goes for me. We have trust, love, and open communication to get us by.

Alex comes over and hands me a beer. After doing the handshake we invented when we were fifteen, the bottles are tapped, and he says, “She’s an amazing woman. Toby’s a great kid. Congrats, Cruise. You deserve this.”

“I’ve been wondering if I should start going by John.”

“Why?”

“I’m not really living up to the coasting through life thing anymore. You gave up King. Maybe it’s time for me to try on John again.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want, John.”

There’s a pause as we take it in before we start laughing. “Nah. John is boring as fuck.”

“Cruise was always a lot more interesting.”

“I prefer badass.”

He chuckles again. “Whatever gets you off.”

I find Clara in the crowd. It just so happens I know what that is. Or who. “If you’ll excuse me, I have business to tend to.”

Right before I beeline her way, he says, “Will I see you at the penthouse on Monday?”

“Only for work.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Clara and I dance a little, drink a lot, and enjoy the company of our closest friends and family. I even let my mom invite Fredrick, though we’ve kept a wide distance between us. I’m sure the gap will close when we’re ready to deal with our real issues. As for now, we’re both good at keeping up appearances.

The final surprise isn’t a gift for my beloved, but something for my mom. Or should I say, someone. Clara’s in on the plan and is almost shaking from giddiness when our special guest arrives. Walking up the terrace steps, he stops when his eyes find my mom in the crowd. And although the music still plays, it fades away.

My mom turns, laughing from something Clara’s mom must have said. My mom continues to surprise me. Once, I blindly considered her an elitist, only concerned with how she was received. How we were perceived. Yet, she’s taken Clara, her mom, and Toby into her home with open arms, welcoming them into her home, heart, and into our family. The two women have become great friends. I think they feel less . . . alone.

“She sees him,” Clara whispers.

She does. Her smile vanishes and then slowly rebuilds as recognition sets in. Clara and I walk over, not making it a big deal outside of the two people this reunion includes. The widower wasn’t hard to track down. Adam Blum never moved far from where he grew up. My mom joins us, and I make the reintroduction, “Mom, I think you might remember, Mr. Blum.”

“I remember. I remember him well.” Her voice is soft, tears filling her eyes. If I’m not mistaken, she might be blushing.

He holds out a bouquet of daisies, and smiles. “And I could never forget you, my wildflower.”

I excuse us and take my wife for a walk through the garden. Just at the edge of the pond, I steal a kiss, and then reminisce. “Remember how you threw yourself at me when I saw you at the pub?”

I’m whacked on the arm as I burst out laughing. She rolls her eyes. “You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

Grabbing her quickly by the hand, she spins away from me and I spin her right back in. Holding her tightly to me, I say, “No, you’ve got it wrong. I was the right guy in the right place at the right time.”

This time she kisses me. When she leans back and looks up at the stars, she smiles. It’s the love that sparkles in her eyes when she looks at me that almost brings me to my knees. Sacred.

“You look good in a suit, and white suits your mood better these days.”

I cup her face, leaning in to kiss her because I’m the luckiest guy in the world to call this woman my wife. She whispers, “What was that for?”

“For every day that we’ve ever spent together, and every second that remains, I have you to thank for giving me a reason to live, to returning my faith, and handing me hope when you gave me your hand in marriage.”

“Cruise?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Our legs are tackled by a two-armed little monster who can’t stop giggling. I pick Toby up and toss him in the air. I don’t need to go looking for trouble anymore. I don’t need to search for answers to questions that don’t hold the same weight these days. I’ve everything I need. A life full of yellow. This family right here—my family—is all that matters.