Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Tyler shook his hand as well. “Maybe I’ll see you at practice next week.”
“I’d really like that.” He looked worried for a second. “Should I still call you Coach?”
Tyler laughed a little. “Uh, no. You can call me Tyler.”
Chip grinned. “Sounds good.”
The kids both went up to their rooms, and Robin saw us to the door.
“I’m sorry if this was unnecessarily traumatic,” I said.
“No, no. It’s okay. I think deep down Chip always wondered about both his birth parents.” She laughed and shrugged. “He’s sort of getting a twofer here.”
I laughed too, placing my hand on her arm. “Thank you for everything—inviting us into your home, being so gracious, and . . . having the wherewithal to make something beautiful out of something awkward and difficult.”
She exhaled. “You know, I wanted children more than anything. I tried so hard to get pregnant and stay pregnant, and it just never took. I had miscarriage after miscarriage. So when we turned to adoption and even that seemed to be taking forever, I made sort of a bargain with God.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I promised that if He would send us a child that needed us as much as we needed him or her, that I would let love and compassion be my guide for the rest of my life. The very next day the agency contacted me, and said you’d chosen us to adopt your baby.”
A lump formed in my throat and tears filled my eyes. Impulsively, I threw my arms around her. “It was meant to be.”
She hugged me back, then hugged Tyler. “It was meant to be. It was all meant to be.”
Much later that night, Tyler was waiting for me in my bed. It was so late, he’d already fallen asleep, and I undressed in the dark, kicking off my heels, peeling off my dress, tiptoeing into the bathroom to take off my makeup and brush my teeth.
He woke up when I slipped beneath the covers, immediately reaching for me. “Come here, you. How was the wedding?”
“Good. Long.” I snuggled up against his warm, strong body. “How was your night?”
“Fine. I went and saw three houses.”
“Did you like any of them?”
“They were all nice, but I definitely had a favorite. Maybe you can come see it with me this week. It’s not right on the water, but it’s close. You can see it through the windows.”
“I’d love that.” I kissed his chest. “So are you okay? We’ve hardly had a chance to talk about how things went today.”
“Yes. I feel good actually.”
“I do too.” I wrapped my arm around him and squeezed him tightly. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For changing your mind. For coming back. For being there with me today.”
“Well, how else was I going to win you back? Clearly my biceps were no longer enough. I had to get a little more dramatic.”
I giggled. “It worked.”
He kissed my head. “I’ll never stop trying to win you, April. I promise.”
Every part of me hummed with warmth—I felt so lucky. “He’s so much like you. Isn’t he?”
“In some ways, maybe. But much smarter. With a much bigger heart.”
“You’ve got a big heart. You just never showed it.”
He rolled on top of me, settling his hips between my thighs. “What a difference red hair and dimples can make.”
Laughing, I wrapped my legs around him. “Everything’s gonna be okay, right?”
“It’s going to be more than okay,” he said, brushing my cheekbones with his thumbs. “You know, I never imagined I could fall in love with anything the way I fell in love with baseball. But now . . . ”
“Now?” I asked hopefully, my heart pounding.
He pressed his lips to mine, and his kiss tasted like forever. “Now there’s you.”
A week later, I crossed the band platform at my father’s retirement party, hoping my voice wouldn’t sound as shaky as my legs felt. Carrying a glass of sparkling wine in one hand, I moved to the vocalist’s microphone stand and switched the mic on. “Excuse me everyone. Could I please have your attention?”
It took a minute for the roughly two-hundred-fifty people in the room to quiet down, during which I scanned the crowd for familiar, supportive faces.
They were all here—my parents, seated next to one another, their joined hands resting on the table. Sylvia and Henry. Meg and Noah. Chloe and Oliver. Frannie, Mack, and the three girls, who giggled along with Sylvia’s two kids and Cecily Carswell over their plastic flutes of sparkling juice. It turned out that Cecily went to the same middle school as Sylvia’s daughter Whitney and Mack’s oldest, Millie. I’d asked Whitney if she could make sure Cecily was included since she might not know anyone else, and she’d said of course. I’d never felt more grateful for my family, who always stepped up when I needed them.
Robin Carswell, her mother, and Chip were seated with Tyler, Sadie, and Josh, who’d also been added to the guest list at my mother’s insistence. She’d hand-delivered the invitation herself, and insisted they attend. “You’re family now,” she told them all. “You have to come.”