“Hmm…maybe I’ll have cereal.”
She turned to give me the evil eye and slapped my ass as I made my way to the other side of the kitchen.
Asher yelled, “Da!” He made his grabby hands, which resembled tiny pinchers on a crab.
I smiled, loving the sound of my child calling out to me. It was a sound I’d thought I would never hear, yet here we were, celebrating his first birthday. I picked Asher up from his highchair and rocked him on my hip while Mia made subpar pancakes, and I realized how lucky I was, how fortunate I’d been.
I’d learned that our lives could be plotted out by pivotal moments in time. My life with Mia had been a journey, an endless string of moments and memories that kept moving us forward, propelling us to a future neither of us could imagine.
As I’d sat in that homeroom class so many years ago, staring at the girl who would one day be my wife, I’d had no idea how important that moment would become. She was the first girl I’d ever noticed and the only woman I’d wanted since. I’d thought she’d broken me on that deserted, rain-soaked street and that I’d never recover. When I’d found her on that crowded street at the farmers’ market, I’d known I would never be able to let her go again.
Every moment of our lives had brought us to this one and the countless others that would follow.
“So, little dude,” I said as he grabbed on to my nose and giggled, “are you ready to celebrate?”
~Mia~
Seeing Garrett hold our son never failed to make my heart stutter and swell with pride. He took Asher upstairs, and I set my sights on the kitchen, hoping I could get the breakfast mess cleaned by the time everyone arrived for Asher’s birthday party.
Our little boy was turning one today.
I was a mother.
I’d known this fact for a year now, longer actually, but it still amazed me. It was something I’d never thought was possible, but I’d quickly learned that nothing in life was impossible. I’d known adoption was an avenue we could explore, but I’d also known it was difficult, expensive, and full of challenges.
After Garrett had proposed to me by the river on that cold winter evening in the exact spot he’d dropped to one knee so many years earlier, my heart was complete. I wouldn’t need anything else in the world as long as I had him.
“What are we doing here?” I asked.
He stopped the car at our favorite spot by the river. The trees were now bare and statuesque in their grayish wintery state. Garrett grabbed his trusty blanket out of the back of the car, and we started down the path toward the water.
“I thought a little bit of alone time with our favorite spot might be nice,” he said.
“In thirty-degree weather?” I asked, rubbing my hands together. I shoved them in my pockets.
I saw him smirk as he unfolded the blanket and spread it across the cold ground. He sat down and motioned for me to do the same.
“You want me to sit down on the frozen ground?” I added.
“Mmhmm,” he said, smoothing out the blanket suggestively.
I rolled my eyes and planted my butt down on the cold earth next to him, yelping as my jean-clad ass hit the icy blanket.
“See? Not that bad, right?”
I just glared my answer back at him, but then I gasped as soon as he bent forward on his knees and propped one forward.
Holy shit. He was on one knee…and he just pulled out a ring box.
I suddenly didn’t care about my ass anymore. Just like the first time, I went to my knees and mimicked his position so that our noses were touching.
He laughed. “Some things don’t change.”
I stared down at the ring box, and then my eyes drifted up to his. “No, they don’t.”
“I’ve been agonizing for weeks, trying to find the perfect place to ask you. That sham of a housewarming party was all for show. I was supposed to propose that night, but all my meticulous plans got botched. I’ve been scrambling all week, attempting to come up with something. Then, you made that comment about our past and present colliding, and I realized I already had the perfect spot.”
“Here,” I said.
“Here,” he confirmed.
He opened the ring box and nestled inside was a perfect representation of everything we’d been through.
“When did you do this?” I asked.
He’d somehow managed to take my original engagement ring and added to it. He’d combined three stones, adding a larger stone in the middle and two smaller stones on either side—past, present and future.
“A few weeks ago. I’m surprised you didn’t notice. It’s been missing from your jewelry box for a while now. I’ve been sweating bullets ever since I stole it. The smaller stone to the left is your original stone.”
“It’s beautiful, Garrett,” I said, tears trickling down my face.
“When I ask you this time, it’s forever, Mia. No matter what life throws at us, we will go through it together.”
I nodded as he took the delicate ring out of its box, and he placed it on the tip of my finger.
“Mia Emerson, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
“Yes.”
Six months later, on a Southern plantation overlooking the James River, Garrett and I had finally become husband and wife.
Looking down at my bridal set, I smiled, remembering my father walking me down the aisle and feeling nothing but peace, happiness, and hope.
I’d never expected anything more than that moment, and I never asked for it. A year later, Garrett had brought up adoption, and I had felt almost scared to ask for more.
We were happy. Did we deserve to ask for more?
He had explained to me that when two people had as much love as we did, it needed to be shared.
So, we had turned to adoption.
We’d found open adoption to be the right path for us, and the young girl who had chosen us was wonderful. She’d allowed us to attend every doctor’s appointment and even be present at the birth. Seeing our child being born had been the most precious gift she could have given us.
She was young, so very young, and she had chosen to walk away completely. We had given her other options, but she’d said anything else would be too hard. It was an extremely grown-up decision, and we had respected her wishes. I’d been in her shoes—even though I’d had Garrett and she had been alone—but I remembered feeling overwhelmed from the grown-up decision that had been too much for my age.
When I’d held Asher Thomas Finnegan in my arms for the first time, I’d fallen instantly in love with him.