“Isn’t it perfect?” I boast, overjoyed by the excitement in his eyes.
“Insanely perfect. I wish we had a record player around here somewhere,” he says, looking around the room as if one might appear out of nowhere.
“You can always sing it to me,” I suggest, sweeping my fingers through his tousled, rolling-around-in-the-bed-all-day, hair.
Without the slightest objection, Declan rests his head against my chest and begins to hum the melody. As I trace hearts on his back and hum along with him, he starts to serenade me with the words we danced to the night I first married the man of my dreams.
“As much as I miss them I don’t want it to end,” I whine, grabbing Declan’s hand over the console. We’re about two miles from home and I have a pit in my stomach. Not because I don’t miss the hell out of my kids and not because I’m afraid to face reality, but because I’ll truly miss having my man all to myself.
“Did you have fun?” Declan says, eyes still focused on the road.
“No!” I mock him, obviously joking. “Dec, it was the best week of my life. Hands down.”
“I agree. Best. Week. Ever.” he says darting a quick glance my way. His eyes sparkle as he smiles—I missed that when it was gone. When I’d taken it away from him for a while. But I can honestly say and believe wholeheartedly that all of that is finally behind us—for good. No more guilt, no more remorse, no more second-guessing. I haven’t felt so at peace in a long time.
When we pull into the driveway, I notice the curtains swaying. Within seconds, the front door swings open to reveal our two little monsters. Chocolate-smudged smiles, and knotted hair-dos, too, I can’t wait to smother them in kisses.
“Mommmmmyyyyyy!” Cara shrieks as she runs out, barefoot, to greet us.
“Baby,” I say, flinging my arms around her and scooping her up off the ground. “I missed you, doll.”
“We missed you, too, but we did have fun,” she smirks, looking over at my mom who’s toting an even messier Charlie.
“Mama,” she croons, nearly jumping out of my mother’s arms.
I take her in my free arm and kiss them both atop their curly heads.
“Hey,” Declan pouts as he walks around the car. “No Daddy love?”
“Don’t let them fool you, Declan,” my mother says. “They’ve been asking about you all week.”
“Huh, is that so?” I know how much they love their dad, but it surprises me that they were more vocal about missing him over me.
“Well, we get to see you all the time, Mom. Daddy’s gone a lot.” She says it so innocently, but I can tell from the expression on Declan’s face that it still feels like an unexpected jab in the gut.
Declan snatches Cara out of my arms and gives her a squeeze along with a rough Eskimo kiss that makes her squeal. “Well, Daddy’s gonna be around a lot more. No more trips for a while so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. Deal?”
“Deal,” she giggles. “Come on. Can we go inside and show you what we made you?”
I look to my mother who gives me a sympathetic shrug. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve re-spackling the walls or peeling Play-doh off the ceiling?”
“Not that bad, hun. Don’t worry.”
Together, we all walk back toward the house. Charlie shimmies down my body and runs over to my mom, gripping her hand as they walk through the door. Cara follows suit, running into the house, excited to show us our surprise.
I reach for Declan’s hand and pause before stepping over the threshold. “Ready for part two? Reality is going to make it a lot more difficult to enjoy all the romance.”
“Reality can suck it!” He jokes, leaning in for a quick kiss. “We’ve got this covered, Mrs. Murphy, I have no doubt about it.”
That night, after everyone’s asleep, all the toys are back in their rightful places, the luggage is unpacked and a few loads of laundry have been done, I rush down to the studio. Shit, I’ve been dying to get down here and start working on the words that won’t stop swimming in my head. Forget my head, they’re swimming in my veins and they need to get out and become more than just some poem.
I start out by scribbling the random verses that played out during our time apart and continued to create themselves while we were rekindling our love in Newport. As a whole, yes, the song might bring back some memories we wish to forget, but as I’ve said over and over to Mia, all of this made us who we are today. And what I learned from Mia is that purging it helps heal the wounds.
I play around with a couple of chords for the verses and then pluck a tune that works really nicely for the chorus. It’s a little darker, more angsty then the stuff I usually write, but dark and angsty fit the bill for what these words express.