Page 11

IMOGINE

“ Vivian! Dexter! Marco! Time for dinner!” I call from the kitchen window.

Marco has our eight-year-old, Vivian, in his arms, twirling her around while she giggles. Our nine-year-old Dexter is digging around in the dirt nearby, looking up when he hears his name. I watch my sweet boy’s face light up, and at first, I think it’s because he’s excited for dinner. Then, he pulls a worm out of the dirt mound in front of him, holding it out for everyone to see.

“Look!” he exclaims, jumping up from his spot and running toward his sister.

Marco sets her down, intercepting Dexter before he can upset Vivian with the wriggly, slimy worm in his hands.

“What do you have there?” Marco asks, kneeling in front of our son.

Vivan hides behind her father, knowing he’ll keep her safe. I love that my husband is so protective of our family. He has been since day one, but as soon as I got a positive pregnancy test nearly ten years ago, he stepped up his game.

“His name is Steve,” Dexter announces.

I step out onto the deck, ready to wrangle the family inside for dinner.

“Well, hello there, Steve,” Marco says, holding out his hand. Dexter reluctantly places the worm in his outstretched palm. “How about we let this little guy get back to his important job of aerating the soil.”

“Are-eating?” Dexter repeats, tilting his head to the side.

“Making holes in the dirt to let air in,” Vivian pipes up, answering her brother’s question. She reads everything she can get her hands on and has an incredible reading comprehension.

“Exactly,” Marco says, standing from his position and holding out his hands for our kids to take.

Vivian looks at the dirt on the hand Steve was in and shakes her head, making Marco laugh.

Our daughter runs up to me, followed by her brother. Dexter swerves past me, straight inside, while Vivian wraps her arms around my legs. I give her a hug and tell both kids to wash up before sitting down for dinner.

Marco brushes his hands off on his slacks and walks up to me, staying on the ground while I’m two steps up on the back deck. At this elevation, we’re the same height. My husband smiles at me and kisses my nose before stepping up and pulling me into his chest at the same time. He lifts me off the ground with his arms around my waist, kissing me fully on the lips.

When he sets me down, I smile up at him, so thankful for the life we’ve built.

“What are you thinking, angel?” he asks, nuzzling into the side of my neck.

I grin and slip out of his embrace, only to be drawn back into his chest when he spins me around and dips me backward.

“You,” I tell him truthfully. “And our first date, right out here.” He pulls me up, greeting me with a dazzling smile.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance all those years ago, beautiful,” he whispers into the shell of my ear.

I’m about to reply when Dexter shouts, “I thought you said we were eating!”

Marco and I laugh at our impatient son, and he gives me the briefest kiss before lacing our fingers. We walk inside, hand in hand, like we will be for the rest of our lives.

THE END