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38

LIAM

After spending time with the men I admire and with the little dude who won my heart, it’s time for some changes around here. Big ones. And they start with the truth.

I owe it to my family and the woman I love.

I may have done things backward and been a total toolbag, but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix it.

After a very long conversation with my parents, disclosing the truth about Jessica and my relationship, I ask about the engagement ring.

My mother is hesitant at first, but finally relents when I use the L-word and the P-word—love and please, respectively—and when Grannie Bell insists that she see it on Jessica’s finger next time we visit … or else.

I can hear her in the background hollering, “I knew she was the one!”

I should hope so, considering we got married. But I also lied about the marriage of convenience. After my confession and apology, I ask Dolly to come over while Jessica is out and tell her the story.

“I know,” she signs simply.

Relief followed by confusion rushes through me.

She mouths and signs, “Jessica may have mentioned it. But I could tell it was more than a matter of convenience by the way you looked at each other. It’s the same affection Dell had in his eyes.”

I assume she’s referring to her late husband.

My ASL is rough, but I say and sign, “It’s a bit backward, but I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

She signs, “We all have our own way of doing things. Now, let’s get baking before Jess gets back.” Dolly bustles into the kitchen, tying her apron. She signs to KJ and he climbs the stool, armed with a spatula and mixing bowl.

I wanted to do this myself, but also figured I’d screw it up so I called in the big guns.

Dolly signs and mouths, “How’d you get rid of her anyway and when will she be back?”

I speak and sign, “I sent Jessica on a wild goose chase to a local hockey pro shop to source me a bagatelle .” I have to spell out the last word.

The older woman tilts her head back with laughter. “A doohickey? A thingamabob?”

I nod. There’s no such thing as a bagatelle , but I needed to occupy her long enough to make a Bundt peace offering … and a proposal.

Dolly instructs me on how to make the perfect cinnamon spice Bundt cake. KJ helps with the icing.

She signs, “It may not have enough time to cool. But it’s the thought that counts.”

I nod while my son greases the tin cake pan, being sure to get in all the little nooks and crannies.

She signs, “I’m glad you finally came to your senses.”

“Do you think she’ll like it?” I reply.

“She’ll love it, but she also loves you. Never forget that because I think she’s been saving up a lot of love for a long, long time.”

Jessica’s early life makes me sad, but I intend to make up for it by loving the heck out of her now that she’s all mine.

After Dolly instructs me on how the cake is done and how to carefully remove it from the pan, she and KJ hit the road. He gives me a big hug and then dashes out the door with the dog.

At last, it’s quiet. Too quiet. I’ve come to like the activity in our home with Jessica breaking into random dance parties, singing out loud (in an endearingly off-pitch tone), and generally making every day merry even if Mrs. Kirby downstairs complains from time to time.

Taking a deep breath, I finish cleaning up and set everything out on the end of the long wooden table.

Keys jingle in the lock and Jessica enters, smiling. “It smells good in here. So good.”

“Smells like you,” I say.

“Like cake?”

I nod. “I made you one.”

She drops her bags. “You made me a cake?”

“A snickerdoodle Bundt. You said it’s your favorite.”

As if not quite registering, she says, “I got you the bagatelle, er, a baton, baguette, and a basket. I wasn’t really sure what you meant by bagatelle and the guy at the hockey store had no idea and so …”

I step aside so she can see the cake on the table next to some lit candles and the velvet box.

Her hands tent over her mouth and she steps closer, peering up at me and then back at the table.

I plant my palm on her lower back and say, “Jessica, you may remember that I was looking for this little box. It contains Grannie Bell’s engagement ring. She still wears her wedding band, but a little birdie from Brookking Sound may have chirped that originally Hendrix was going to propose to Colette with it. But may have changed his mind to go with something custom and gave it to me for safekeeping.”

“I’m glad you found it.”

“No, I found you. I didn’t know what I wanted or needed. Turned out it was right in front of me. I want and I need you. With this ring, I want to formally ask you to marry me.”

“But we’re already married.”

“I want you to know that I want to be married to you. I want you to have this, to be part of our family … to be mine.”

She gasps and turns to me, arms looping my neck. “Yes. I want to be yours and you’ll be mine. Mine all mine.”

She pecks my mouth with excited kisses in between happy squeals of joy.

I hardly have the ring seated on her finger when she fully wraps herself around me, hugging me tighter than I imagined while repeating the word, “Yes, yes, always yes.”

We settle into the embrace and I feel like the past starts to move into the background while the future opens wide and sunny in front of me.

Jessica leans back and frames my jaw with her hands, studying me for a long moment. “You may have been rough and gruff, but I didn’t give up on you. You’re honest and handsome and so, so, wonderful because you made me a cake!”

“I had a little bit of help.”

I slice it and she takes a bite, eyes closed, looking as happy as I’ve ever seen her. “This is amazing. Five stars. I’ll have to give you a sticker.”

“I’d like that and I love your planner, colored pens, and aggressive positivity.”

She playfully knocks into me. I nuzzle her with my nose. The cake plate gets set aside. The ring sparkles on her finger as I press my lips to the top of Jessica’s hand before folding her into me for a kiss.

* * *

The negotiations with the Coogans are more of a hassle for the attorneys than I anticipated, but I’m now a husband and a dad and it’s my duty, my desire, to fix things.

First, to get the crazy lizard cult lady and her daughter out of our lives. Turns out that Rexlan is the least of our problems. He’s just afraid his mother’s lady lizard squad is going to curse him. I can’t necessarily blame the guy for falling for his assistant. I mean, it happens.

Tonight is the final game for the Stanley and I need to get my head in the zone and get off the phone. Never mind that the lawyer practically charges by the minute, but the conversation about concessions could cause a migraine.

KJ rushes into the room with Ranger and I fight everything in me to give them the one-minute finger. I just need to wrap up the call.

Jessica follows the boys, takes the phone from my hand, and says, “Good morning, Attorney Sarbo. It’s such a pleasure to hear your voice. It’s the sound of confidence, the kind that tells me this man makes things happen, resolves problems, and has the moral fortitude to do the right thing and not bend to the whims of the skink people. Listen, I like lizards as much as the next gal. Truly, I do, but not as much as Sorsha. However, I assure you, there is nothing to worry about. It’s all a big fat ploy. The money people pay to appease her scaly deities is a scam. She’s an extortionist, a criminal. Do you know she doesn’t report the money she collects from her website for taxes? So many people have believed their woes would be cured by using her tinctures and talismans, but the elixirs they’d buy from her storefront were nothing more than vegetable oil mixed with herbs and food dye. Plus, it smells like cat pee. Just saying. Don’t even get me started on the amulets. She has little kids in countries without child labor laws fabricating those.”

Through the phone, I can hear James Sarbo say, “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“That she’s a con artist? I thought it was obvious.” Then Jessica goes quiet. “Though, to be fair, I didn’t realize it at first either and nearly made it to the end of the aisle before finding out that Rexlan cheated, snapping me out of it.”

“We have an even bigger case than I thought. Do you know if Pamberlie was involved?”

“Absolutely, but she didn’t hide that it was all a sham. She made fun of her mother, but definitely enjoys the financial benefits.”

Sounds like they’re on their way to getting that solved. I turn my attention to KJ who sits on the floor in his sneakers while trying to tape a long piece of tinfoil to the bottom.

I sign, “What are you doing, buddy?”

He replies, “Making skates like you.”

Never mind a honeymoon, okay, I would like to visit my grandparents, but that’s mostly because I want them to meet the little dude … and Jessica. This dad thing is pretty cool. I sign, “Do you want to skate with me tomorrow?”

He nods vigorously.

I tell him we’ll get him skates like mine. He waves his arms in the air and then hugs my leg.

Jessica gets off the phone and tilts her head to the side. “What?”

Heat draws along my neck toward my ears. “Nothing.”

“You were staring at me. Do you want to make fun of how I was duped by the skink queen?”

“No, actually, you handled that perfectly, professionally. Sarbo and I were at loggerheads.”

“Oh. Good. I’m looking forward to washing my hands of that mess.”

The kid continues to try to attach the foil to his shoe.

I say, “I have a new skating student during the off-season.”

“Would you object to two students?” Jessica asks.

“You don’t know how to ice skate?”

“Or swim or ride a bike.”

“Seriously?”

Her shoulder lifts toward her ear. “Never really had the chance … but I also didn’t give myself one. Your childhood was the kind I only saw in movies. The kind I longed for.”

“It wasn’t all peaches and cream, Sugar. The three of us Ellis siblings sure could fight.”

“While some of the families I lived with while in the foster care system were amazing, there was always a point when I’d have to move on. They didn’t want to keep me.” Liquid brims in her eyes. “So I retreated. It wasn’t so much that I was shy, more like I couldn’t keep bearing the rejection so I made myself small, quiet, barely there.”

“I cannot imagine you anything but smiley and outgoing. An aggressive force of positivity and optimism.”

“When I was in high school, I didn’t speak for five months straight. That’s why I was placed with Grandma Dolly. They thought I’d sign.”

“What happened when you turned eighteen, were you on your own? By then, you lived with Dolly, right?”

“She called me Mouse at first, drawing me out of my hidey hole crumb by crumb. You know, she made me the first birthday cake I ever had. Put sixteen candles in it and everything.” Sadness fills Jessica’s eyes where there’s usually a smile.

“That’s why you like to bake cakes so much, huh?”

“I never told her the wish I made when I blew out the candles. But she signed that it must’ve been a good one because from then on, I never stopped smiling.”

“What did you wish for?” I dare ask.

“For me to see all the good in things instead of the bad.”

“And an aggressively optimistic woman was born.”

She snorts a laugh. “I guess you could say that. I also figured since I missed out on sixteen birthday cakes, it wouldn’t hurt if I added an extra wish.”

“Which was?” I ask.

“This.” Her gaze drifts from the dog, drifts to KJ, and lands on me.

A family.

“But then you left Cobbiton.”

“I was already in the habit of not staying in one place long enough to get comfortable. I always kept one foot near the door to make a quick exit. In a new place, in the beginning, no one knew I’d been abandoned. Until they did. Inevitably, someone would sniff it out. It was humiliating.”

“Did they confront you? Doesn’t seem like anyone’s business.” My jaw tightens at the idea of bullies making Jessica feel bad.

“A few times, but mostly it was just that I knew that they knew. They’d treat me different in subtle ways, but it became like a pebble in my shoe.”

“So you’d walk away.”

“By leaving Cobbiton and living somewhere else, no one needed to know about my serial failures … and I wouldn’t be reminded. I could start fresh. It’s what I’d always done. New school, new friends. I’d forget about the past a little more each time.”

“Those weren’t your failures.”

“But I thought once I was free from that system, I’d be a success. Being an adult is harder than I thought.”

I brush the softest part of my thumb along Jessica’s jawline. “What if instead of running away from your problems, you run at them?”

“In full hockey gear?”

I chuckle. “In that case, we definitely have to teach you to skate.”

She’s quiet for a long beat and then in a small voice, she says, “I was never good enough to love.”

That hits me in the heart. Yeah. I have one.

I’m afraid to ask her about now, worried that I might not like the answer. She’s a flight risk.

Hooking my finger and planting it under her chin, I bring her gaze to mine. I want to do something nice for her. Something extraordinary. But I don’t think a fancy car or jewelry is her love language. Cake can only go so far.

I say, “Jessica, I want to keep you.”

She blinks a few times.

I nod.

Then she dives into my arms and I hold her for a long, long time. I want it to be forever.

Just before I leave for the arena to prep for the game, Jessica meets me by the door.

“Will you do something for me, please?” Her expression ripples with uncertainty, hesitancy. I worry it’s going to be something that I can’t do. Is she going to ask me to smile? I mean, I would for her. I told the guys to do so at the game not long ago and we won. If the woman wants a smile, I’ll deliver.

I say, “Anything.”

She points to the top shelf in the closet. “Could you grab that basket from up there? I’m sorting through KJ’s seasonal gear and can’t find a mitten.”

“I thought it was going to be more like beat up your ex.”

“He has his mother to deal with.”

“Was that it?” I edge toward the door.

“Yes. No. While you’re on the ice, will you wave to KJ if you have a chance? It would mean a lot that you see him from out there.”

“Yeah. Of course.”

She bites her lip as if there’s more.

The clock is ticking. I never used to be less than two hours early for prep. Sometimes I just sat in the empty arena, playing through the game in my head. “Is there something else?”

“Actually, one more thing. Remember how we talked about forgiveness?”

She draws the line at the socks. This one, I don’t step over. “Not now, Jessica.”

“Maybe later? I think it’ll give you an edge on the ice.”

I incline my head, wondering what the heck she knows about hockey.

“Carrying around baggage like that from the past can weigh you down, hold you back.”

I nod, understanding what she means but now is not the time to think about what happened in high school to Franklin and Marci. Right now, my mind can’t be on anything other than winning for my team … and my son.

Jessica too.

Cupping her cheeks I kiss her square on the lips and swish out the door.