Loïc
“We are but two imperfect people, yet when we’re together, our flaws vanish. When we’re together, we’re whole.”
—Loïc Berkeley
The end credits of Trolls play, and Lindi rolls around on the floor, dancing to the music. She does this every time a movie ends. I think her favorite part of any movie is its ending credits. I’m sure I’m biased, but I swear, she’s a gifted dancer. I see no difference between her moves and the contemporary dancers on the dancing show London forces me to watch with her every summer.
London snuggles into my side, a blanket over our legs, as we watch Lindi. Our Saturday mornings are typically spent cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie. I think Lindi has chosen Trolls the past nine out of ten weeks, but I don’t mind. It’s actually funny, and it has great songs for a kid flick.
Yet again, life is kind of perfect in the Berkeley house. Lindi turned two a couple of weeks ago and was celebrated for days by family and friends, all thanks to London’s simple, low-key birthday-party planning skills. I tease her, but I don’t care if she goes all out with Lindi. It makes London happy, her family happy, and most importantly, Lindi happy.
I’ve accepted the fact that my daughter is going to live a privileged life, and I’m okay with it because I know we’ll still raise her to be a kind and compassionate person. She already is really. She’s the sweetest little girl, and I can’t imagine loving her more.
“We should go for a hike,” I suggest, looking out the window at the gorgeous early-summer day.
“Not yet. I’m too tired. I need another cup of coffee first,” London protests. “Lin’s two-year molars are coming in. She kept me up a lot last night.”
“Why didn’t you wake me? You know I’d have helped you.”
“I know. I loved cuddling with her though. Honestly, I didn’t wake you for selfish reasons. But that doesn’t mean I’m not tired this morning.”
“All right.” I move London’s legs off of me and stand from the couch. “Cinnamon-vanilla creamer?”
“Yes, please,” she says with a yawn.
I return a minute later with her coffee.
Lindi pulls at my shorts.
“What is it, Lin?”
She points to the TV where the credits have finished rolling, and the movie is back on the opening screen.
“Do you want to dance some more?”
She says, “Yes,” and starts jumping up and down with excitement.
“Okay.” I laugh. “Let me play the soundtrack for you.”
I put on the soundtrack, and Lindi is immediately in her dancing world, flipping onto the ground and kicking up her leg to the beat.
“You need to get our girl into dance class,” I say as I sit back down next to London.
“I know. She has to be three to enroll in any of the dance studios around here,” she says with an air of annoyance.
“Really?”
“Yeah, isn’t that dumb? The first class she can do is ballet, but it’s only for ages three and up. Something about not being able to follow directions until then.” London shrugs.
“And they’re going to be following directions better at three?” I ask.
“I know, right? Whatever. Until then, she can just give us private recitals here after every movie.”
“Sounds good.”
The song “True Colors” comes on, and Lindi runs over to us with tears in her eyes. “Poppy kye.”
“Yes, this is when Poppy cried,” London says to Lindi, talking about the pink princess troll in the movie. “It’s okay because then she sang with her friend and felt all better, remember?”
“Poppy happy?” Lindi asks.
“Yes, she’s happy now.”
“Happy now,” Lindi repeats before taking off to dance again.
“She’s such a sensitive soul,” I say.
“She really is. She’s so in tune with other people’s feelings.”
“That is a good quality to have,” I tell London.
“Yeah, I think it is.”
London sips her coffee, and we watch our daughter dance.
“So, I’ve been thinking about something,” London says.
“What’s that?”
She sets her empty coffee cup on the table and turns to look at me. “I want to try to have another baby.”
My body immediately fills with dread—not because I don’t want another child, but because I don’t want to lose London again.
“I can already tell what you’re thinking, and I promise, it will be different this time. We’ll do everything we can, and if it happens, great. If not, then hopefully, we’ll be led toward another path, like adoption. I don’t want to adopt again from Africa. That’d require lots of time that we’d have to spend away from Lindi because we couldn’t bring her there since it’s not safe yet. But there are plenty of children in this country who need a home. You know?”
“Yeah,” I agree cautiously. “It worries me.”
“I know. It worries me, too. But then I look at her, and I think she’s enough. She’s more than enough. So, if it doesn’t happen, I’ll be okay. I already have the perfect baby. I just want to try to give her a sibling. She deserves a chance to grow up with a built-in best friend.”
“And if we can’t give her that?”
“Then, I’ll be her best friend. I kind of hope I am regardless,” London admits with a smile. “I’m a cool mom. She’ll want to hang with me, right?”
“Right.” I grin. “London, we’re a year older. Chances are, the in vitro might not go well. And we got lucky with our adoption with Lindi. Those don’t always go well either. They can take a long time. Sometimes, they fall through, and you could lose the child you fell in love with. It could be a long, stressful road. Are you sure you want to go through that?”
A smile comes to her lips. “I am. I’m not the same person I was before. I’m stronger. I won’t fall apart.” She cups my cheek in her palm and stares up at me. “It won’t be like last time. I know it won’t, Loïc. I feel it.”
My beautiful wife captures me with her gaze, and I melt. “Okay then. I say, we do it.”
London shrieks and jumps into my lap, hugging me tight.
Lindi runs over to us. “Mommy, kay?”
“Mommy’s okay, baby. Mommy’s happy.”
“Mommy, happy,” Lindi says with a nod before running back off to dance.
“This will be so great,” London exclaims as I hold her in my arms. “I love being a mom. I feel that we were meant to love more kids. I can picture Lindi in the future, getting ready for prom while her little sister excitedly watches her. I see kickball tournaments in our backyard, and our son sliding into home base while you run slower than you can, so you’ll just miss tagging him out. I see parties with a big family and lots of love. So much love, Loïc. That’s our future. I know it.” Her words break as her eyes fill with tears.
“That sounds wonderful, babe.” I lean in to kiss her. Her lips are wet and taste salty from the several tears that have now fallen. “I love your dream, and I want that dream, too. Sometimes though, what we want and what we get are two different things.”
I love my wife. She’s fierce in a way that few people are. She will stand up against anything that she feels is wrong. She’s loyal and kind. She sees what she wants, and she gets it. She always has. Yet we’ve both seen that some things are out of her control. I know what it’s like when she wants something so badly, but it’s just out of her reach, and there’s nothing she can do about it. I’ve watched her spirit die, and honestly, out of everything I’ve been through in my life, that, for me, was one of the hardest to witness.
Yet, if she needs this, of course, I’m on board. I have just a few purposes in life, a few reasons for living, and London is at the top of my short list. I know better than anyone that life isn’t always easy. Some things are difficult, but some of the toughest obstacles to overcome yield the best results.
I watched London in Africa as she called lawyers, city officials, and the courts daily. She was firm and persistent. She fought hard while living in conditions that weren’t ideal. She battled all those who made the adoption process more grueling than it needed to be while loving Lindi and me every day with everything she had. She gives more than her all every minute of the day. She’s capable of amazing things. I’ve always known this about her, yet her strength still leaves me speechless.
My gaze falls to our daughter, a perfect little piece of heaven dancing like an angel. I have Lindi because of London. And, even if the adoption process had taken three times as long, Lindi would still have been more than worth the fight. She’s everything.
“We can do this, Loïc,” London says. “I can do this.”
I tighten my hold on her and stare into her eyes. “I know you can.”
“I know you’re scared for me, and I’ve given you reason to feel that way, but I truly feel that this time will be different. I’ve changed. I’m stronger. I won’t be overcome by the darkness again.”
“I don’t think you will,” I tell her truthfully. These past two years have changed her. “But, if you do, I’ll be here with you every step of the way. I don’t just love you in life’s little moments of perfection. I love you when our world is void of light. I’ll love you more with each step we take on this journey we call happily ever after because even the worst of days are better than a single day without you.”
London bites her trembling lip. Her gaze focuses on mine, coating me in eternal love. And that right there is why each step I take with this woman for the rest of my life is so incredibly worth it.
We are but two imperfect people, yet when we’re together, our flaws vanish. When we’re together, we’re whole.
Our lips come together in the perfect dance, one made just for us.
And, in her love, I am home.