STACY

It’s Sunday morning at the coffee shop around the corner from where we live, Tonk’s favorite place to start a day. He has my daughter on his lap while he enjoys a café mocha. She’s making all kinds of happy noises today. I’m sipping chamomile tea and hiding my smile behind my white cup.

“Stacy, it might be my imagination or my ego, but I think she’s really starting to like me.”

I know the feeling.

“It’s not your imagination. But it is your ego.”

His head throws back on a laugh, brown eyes sparkling as they look over to the door. Because of his changed expression, I follow his gaze and see a girl walking in with two armloads of multicolored tulips wrapped in twine and brown paper.

It’s like someone bagged spring.

I start to tell him how pretty they are when she surprises me by walking to our table and asking, “Stacy?” her ponytail finally settling down.

“Yes?”

Her coiled arms unwind and suddenly I am holding the flowers, shocked as I see Tonk's pride smiling back at me. The girl flips around, ponytail smacking the side of her head on her way out.

My mouth could hold a tennis ball. “For me?”

Tonk turns Celia around and stands her up as she kicks his legs. He lifts her hand to make her wave to me. “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy.”

Oh my gosh, how I melt. “For me? Tonk, I can’t believe it. They’re gorgeous!”

“I got all they had. It’s your special day. You made this little one right here.” He raises her arms and she smiles at me.

I laugh and drop my gaze to their beauty. It’s like looking at my new future, one so bright and colorful it’s hard to believe. This is just one more display of his kindness.

He’s been so careful with me.

Thoughtful.

Easy to be around.

We haven’t had sex. These first few nights when we’ve gotten ready for bed, he’s warned me that his head is healing and he needs time. I know he does that so I don’t have to ask for patience.

We’ve stayed up late getting to know each other, telling stories from our childhoods, and expressing our dreams that we had long before we met. I told him I dreamed of being a travel journalist, but turns out I get sick on planes. I also hoped to have a restaurant that made the best grilled cheese—that dream I had at age ten.

He wanted to be a researcher when he was twelve. Then scientist. Philosopher came next. And when that goal dissipated, he waited until he found a calling, reading and getting by on acquiring knowledge and living a peaceful life among wild people. They brought him constant entertainment, so he never needed a television show to occupy his time. He told me how he found his calling and I wanted to hug his sister when I heard it.

Spooning with him while we slept has been perfect. At first I slept tense. But last night I relaxed more, and when I woke up today, Tonk and I were pretzeled. It felt really great.

“There are so many of them it’s hard to get up so I can kiss you and thank you!” As I stand, I overdo it, wrestling and grunting. He laughs, which is what I wanted. I love his laugh. It’s not a snicker, the kind I used to hear. I can’t imagine Tonk ever making that unattractive sound. He could never enjoy other people’s pain or embarrassment, especially if he were the cause.

He takes a crinkly-papered bundle from me so I can hold my daughter in one arm. “Thank you for the flowers, Celia,” I smile. “This was very thoughtful of you.” Her eyes focus on the colors, fingers pulling at petals as she tugs one off and offers it to me. “Thank you! I love this. You’re so sweet!”

As she stays occupied with the bundles, I gaze from her to the other miracle in my life, and mouth, Thank you.

His smile becomes intimate as he leans close to kiss me, but hovers an inch away. Neither of us move until we start to laugh. He suddenly presses warm lips to mine, inspiring tingles in all the right places. Our mouths sensually open as we both want more.

“Tonk, you dog!”

We separate and look over as he greets his friend, “Allen!”

“You got the girl! I remember when he first saw you. I’m Al, Tonk’s best friend in the whole world.”

“Oh, come on!”

“I am!”

“When did you start going by just Al?”

“It’s got a better ring to it. Al’s your buddy. He’s your pal! It’s light and airy, like me!” He points at himself, eyebrows wagging. “Look at these flowers? You do this, Tonk? I need to take lessons from you.”

“I’m Stacy,” I smile as we shake hands.

“And who’s this happy baby?”

“That’s my daughter, Celia.”

“Hi Celia! How’re you today?”

Her head swings from me to him, to the flowers, and she says, “Mah.”

I gasp, heart jumping into my throat as Tonk and I lock eyes. He’s just as excited as I am. “Did you hear that?” I ask him just to make sure I wasn’t crazy. “She called me Mom! Her first word was Mom.”

Tonk kisses the top of her head, his eyes on me, so smooth and sparkly they look like dark caramel. Kissing me, he escalates the warmth in my heart to another level, pulling back to smile, “Happy Mother’s Day.”