Until the Tequila (The Killers #3.5)(26)

“Sorry.” She waves us off. “I’m just happy to be here to see this.”

A comment like that coming from his mom who has faced her own demons means something—it isn’t some throw-away remark.

Life. It’s as delicate and beautiful as a lily but sometimes to survive it, you have to be strong.

Like a dandelion.





Evan

Six Years later.





“Would you like to bang the gavel?”

I look down at my seven-year-old daughter as my two-year-old son wiggles in my arms, with my six-month pregnant wife standing next to me as she wipes a tear from her fair cheek.

We’ve come a long way since that night she drank too much tequila at an Italian restaurant.

Thirty seconds ago, I wasn’t a dad. Not officially.

But I sort of was the day the Commonwealth of Virginia placed Cora and Caleb with us sixteen months ago. Caleb doesn’t remember a time when our large country home wasn’t his.

Cora does. She was five-and-a-half and, I’m not gonna lie, the first six months were rough.

But Mary knew exactly what Cora needed and I followed her lead.

Their biological father is dead and their birth mom has given up all rights. She hasn’t seen them since the day the Commonwealth rescued them from the Godforsaken apartment where they were found, dirty and hungry. They were brought to us in the middle of the night a week after we were cleared to become foster parents and, the moment I learned their story, I knew.

No, the moment I saw Mary lay eyes on them, that’s when I had no doubt.

They’d be ours someday.

That someday is officially today.

Cora grabbing that gavel, using all her might to bang the shit out of the wooden block, seals it. But she misses, dents the judge’s desk, and the packed room erupts.

Cora looks up to Mary in horror but my wife runs her fingers through Cora’s dark wavy hair. “It’s okay, baby.”

The judge even laughs. “Every time I look at that, I’m going to think of you and smile, Cora Hargrove.”

Cora looks up at the judge. “It’s finally real?”

The judge sticks out his hand. “Congratulations on your new mom and dad.”

Shit, we need to work on her hand-shaking etiquette because Cora blows him off, turns to jump into Mary’s arms, and squeals.

Mary sheds more tears.

July leaves Wes’s side and wraps her arms around my wife and daughter.

My mom plucks Caleb from my arms and he goes to his grandparents as if he’s known them every moment he’s been on this earth.

Addy, Maya, Keelie, and Gracie go straight to Mary.

I turn to find Crew, Grady, Asa, and Jarvis standing there with their families. Crew offers me his hand and, when I take it, he lowers his voice. “Knew it’d be worth it.”

I haven’t spoken a word about that night since Crew disappeared down the hospital corridor the day after I put a bullet through Duane Giesen’s head. I don’t say anything but nod as Grady slaps me on the back. “Talk about jumping into the fire. Congratulations, man.”

I’m about to thank him but I feel her. I turn to my wife and she comes up on her toes. I meet her as I dip my hand into her hair that’s now all blond and put my mouth to hers.

“Thank you,” she whispers for only me to hear. “You’ve made our lives beautiful today and I love you for it. Thank you for wanting my dream as much as me.”

With a tug at my arm, I let Mary go long enough to pick up Cora.

As our daughter giggles, our son belly laughs while my dad hangs him upside down by his feet, and our family and friends surround us, I feel our youngest kick from inside Mary’s belly as she’s pressed up next to me.

Life is never what you expect.

I look down at my wife. “I’ll do anything for you, baby. Anything.”

She knows and nods.

Strong, beautiful, a survivor.

My dandelion.