Page 31

W hen I return from my late-morning practice, I notice Claire’s car is parked in front of the house and not in the garage. It’s also kind of askew, like she was in a rush or something.

This is odd.

And that makes me worry right away.

I hope everything is okay. I mean, she had a lunch with Madison planned, then a stop at the children’s hospital to drop off a check.

Concerned, I pull up behind her and cut the engine.

I’m out the door of my Rover and in the house in no time.

“Claire?” I call out.

There’s a soft whimpering coming from the living room, and then I hear a choked-up “I’m in here.”

Jesus, what could be going on?

I swear, if someone hurt my wife, there will be hell to pay.

In the living room, Claire is curled up in a corner of the sofa. She has on a pretty lavender dress, and her heels are lying on the floor. And though she’s always beautiful to me, her face is red, and tears are streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh my God.” I race over and sit down next to her, picking up her hand. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

Clearly, something occurred to upset her, so that was a stupid thing to say.

Claire nods. “It’s Lydia,” she chokes out.

“Lydia?” It takes me a beat, but then I realize who she means. And she was just at the children’s hospital. “Oh, Lydia. Is she okay?”

“No,” Claire sobs. “She’s dead, Easton.”

I freeze. “Holy shit! What?”

Recognizing how tragic this is, I throw my arms around Claire. We hold onto each other for comfort. I’m not a big crier, but I can feel my eyes watering at the loss of that special little girl.

How can this be?

Obviously, Lydia was very sick, but I guess we always assumed she was improving. I mean, she was so vibrant and so in-the-moment with life.

And she knew things.

She sure called it with us.

Claire, composing herself somewhat, pulls back. She swipes tears away from her cheeks while I discreetly rub my eyes.

Softly, I ask, “What happened?”

Blowing out a breath, she says, “After I dropped off the check at the hospital, I decided to go upstairs to visit Lydia. I wanted to tell her how right she was about us.” She stops and smiles sadly at me, and I give her a small smile back. “Anyway, when I reached her room, a nurse stopped me from going in. She said there was someone else in there. I just figured Lydia had been moved. But then…” She sighs, and I take her hand again. “The nurse gave me the sad news.”

“I can’t believe it.” I murmur, shaking my head.

Claire squeezes my hand. “I know. She was truly someone special.”

An idea pops into my head, and I say, “You know what? We should do something to honor her memory.”

Claire nods. “Like having a plaque installed at the hospital, or maybe dedicating a bench to her? They could place it out in their atrium with all the flower gardens.”

“We can do those things,” I reply. “But I was thinking of something more personal. Something involving us that she would approve of and be proud of the two of us for finally admitting our true feelings for each other.”

Looking intrigued, Claire asks, “What did you have in mind?”

Now it’s my turn to squeeze her hand as I say, “Let’s get married.”

She laughs. “We already are, you silly man.”

“No, I know. But I mean let’s have the wedding we should have had. Our Vegas ceremony will always hold a special place in my heart, but I love you so much, Claire. I want all of our family and friends to be there to witness our vows. Well,” I clarify, “technically, it’d be a vow renewal. But that’s okay, right?”

Claire is smiling, and there’s happiness in her eyes.

I’m glad I was able to find a way to make her feel better.

“Yes,” she says, nodding. “I love that idea. And Easton?”

“Yes?”

“I love you so damn much.”

“Babe, I love you too.”