“You deserve that. All of you. You’ve waited a long time for this.”
Her smile was so broad and genuine it made my stomach ache. She’d spent so long in fear, yet now she was free.
She studied my face, her own still bright. “I’m just happy,” she said with a small giggle. “And it all feels possible now. A future. And—ugh. Sorry, I’m babbling. I need to get myself under control.”
I stroked her jawline, angling her face up to give her a gentle kiss. “You never have to be in control with me. You can say what you’re feeling. I will never judge.”
She kissed me again, slower this time, and rested her hand on my chest. “I’m so happy.”
“Me too. I have something to show you.”
I opened the security app on my phone and cued up the video.
She took the phone from me, squinting at the grainy night vision security footage. “Is that? The bear?”
“Yes.” I waited for her to notice what was hanging out of her mouth.
On screen, Betsy Ross waddled across the porch confidently.
Celine gasped. “Oh my God.”
I waited.
The bear paused under the motion light, turning her head toward the camera and staring at it with her lone eye.
“Wait.” Celine paused it and zoomed in. “Is that my Croc? That bear stole my shoe! It’s been missing for weeks.”
“In her defense,” I said, “it’s a very bold color.”
On the video, Betsy ambled off the porch with the bright pink Croc dangling from her mouth like a delicious salmon.
“I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to find that damn shoe. I blamed Ellie. I even suspected the dog.”
Wayne, who was lying next to the table, lifted his head in protest.
“I suspect that shoe is property of Betsy Ross now,” I said.
She handed me back the phone. “Unbelievable. She didn’t even take the other one. The kids will never let me live this down.”
“Sorry.” I bent down and kissed her head.
“Coffee’s in the pot. I’m going to shower before Julian wakes up. How do you feel about chocolate chip pancakes?” she asked.
She was gone a moment later, bounding up the stairs, so I wandered into the kitchen.
The space felt more warm and welcoming than it ever had. Julian’s artwork was stuck to the fridge, along with a test or two from each of the girls, both proudly displaying good grades. The table was cluttered with stacks of papers and half-abandoned Lego projects. This wasn’t chaos; it was life. Loud and imperfect. Held together with effort and care.
I poured myself a cup of coffee and looked out the window at the northern side of the farm. I’d wanted this. The farm. The trees. To work hard and lead a simple life.
But these days I wanted more. I wanted challenge and adventure, and I wanted this incredible woman by my side.
The relief of knowing she wanted it too? It was overwhelming.
As the shower turned on upstairs, I started tidying up, filling the dishwasher, wiping down the countertops, and clearing the table.
I managed to move Julian’s creations to the living room without breaking them, then set to work stacking and sorting the papers on the table.
When a few items slipped from one of the folders, I gathered them into a pile, and as I was returning them, a colorful card caught my eye. Worried Celine might want to keep it, I put it on the top of the stack. Why I flipped it open, I don’t know, but when I did, my stomach dropped.