“Yes sir,” she laughs, heading off into the bathroom.
“Repeat those words to me tonight, Kayla Lucas, and I’ll make sure to reward you.”
She stops and turns to look at me, shakes her head, and gives me a full smile… a smile a man would fight a war to see every night.
I’m a very blessed man.
EPILOGUE
KAYLA
Two Years Later.
“There you are! We were getting worried. You’re late,” says White when I walk through the door. I stop for a minute, frozen by what I see. White’s lying on the floor with little Max pulling at his hair. She has her daddy wrapped around her fingers. This never gets old. No matter how many times I see it, it’s more precious, more beautiful every time.
“Mommy!” Max squeals and I laugh, bending down to pick her up as her chubby legs take off running towards me.
“How’s my pretty baby?” I coo, giving her wet kisses and making her giggle.
Ida Maxine Lucas is the light of her parents’ lives. She came into the world kicking and screaming, instantly demanding attention, and nothing has been the same since. I knew from the day we found out she was going to be a girl that I was going to name her after Ida Sue. The Maxine I demanded, just because White was convinced if we had a boy I was going to name him Maxwell. I had to show him it didn’t matter if it was a girl or a boy; I could still surprise him. He caved after a little bit of convincing—a job that I loved doing and was almost disappointed when he caved.
A lot of things have changed in the past two years. We’ve moved close to Ida Sue and the rest of the family. In fact, we’re just a few minutes away from Gray and CC’s. We have a big house with five bedrooms because White says we’re going to make sure we have the big family I always wanted, and we’ve both been working towards that. I smile as Calder walks in from the kitchen.
The adoption of Calder Lucas just became final last month. He was a boy who went to the school that I teach at now. He’s been living with us for a year, but it’s been a long and hard process to make him ours. He’s twelve and he’s been through hell and back, thanks to his drug-addicted parents who abandoned him. He’s slowly learning to open up and trust us though and his hero worship of White is growing every day. But then how can he keep from viewing White as a hero? He’s mine and that just becomes clearer the more time we have together.
“Hey, you’re just in time for dinner. Dad and I cooked together tonight,” Calder says and my heart stops and then beats erratically. My eyes flash to White and he’s grinning from ear to ear. I know we’ll talk about it more tonight, but right now, I have to act like nothing has changed, even though it all has: Calder just called White “Dad” for the first time!
“Good, I’m starved,” I tell him, trying to bite down the wave of emotion that is moving in me. “What are we having?”
“We made your favorite: cheeseburger macaroni,” Calder says, deadly serious.
“That sounds suspiciously like your favorite, but I’m starved so I’ll let it pass,” I joke. It doesn’t matter if it was sawdust, let alone Hamburger Helper. The fact that White moves mountains to take care of me and to make me feel loved and cherished, even after two years of marriage, ensures that it doesn’t matter what is served; if they made it for me, I’d still eat it. Knowing that Calder, who is now legally our son, helped make dinner just adds to that. I hug him and I don’t even have to bend down because even though he’s just twelve, Calder is almost the same height as me. He’ll be taller than White if he keeps this up, and it’s no wonder that he’s already on the radar of college scouts. It’s not football, but White couldn’t be prouder of Calder and he’s been shooting hoops with him and helping him any way he can.
“You look tired, sweetheart,” White says. He comes and takes little Maxie out of my hands and kisses me gently on the lips.
“Call-ber! Call-ber!” Maxie yells. She gets her D sounds and B sounds mixed up, but Calder doesn’t care. He takes her from White like the proud brother he always seems to be. He’s a beautiful child, tall and lean, with dark chocolate eyes and pale mocha skin. His mom was African American and his father was Italian, and the beauty of that mixes perfectly. He’s already got girls following him everywhere. I joke that soon I’m going to have to beat them away with a stick. What he doesn’t know is that I’m not really joking. White says he’s had a talk with him about it all. I hope it stuck, because if not, we’re in for a world of trouble soon.