Destiny - a novel - 20. Chapter 20: A Perfect Day

Chapter 20: A Perfect Day

 

The cold porcelain bite of the sink against my palms snaps me out of it.

I stand erect with my own image confronting me in the mirror. To the side of my perception, all things are as they were: my mom's yellow curtains flutter mildly in the warm summer breeze of late morning, and along with it comes the sweet fragrance of neighborhood flowers, and the even sweeter trill of birds playing in the oak boughs only a few feet away from the window.

Those sounds, those sensations, blend effortlessly with the rain-like patter of Lincoln Oliver showering behind me. He had asked me if I was ready, and that question had been accompanied by a warning too. "You know, you don’t have much time left."

But, time for what?

I glance at my full-length haircut, at my lack of bangs, and how my natural brown color has fully erased all shades of blue-green. In my eyes, I see the truth, that all the things I have just remembered were a review of past pain dragged up so I could be able to move on from it.

The lips I am watching in reflection suddenly rise in a radiant smile. I'm not confused anymore – that stuff was real and lived through – but so is today. I shudder as I recall exactly what it is I'm doing here.

I pull off my white tee-shirt, stride towards the shower, and lower my briefs. I gently draw back the curtain and step in. Immediately my beautiful Lincoln Oliver smiles at me and I slide into an embrace of his warm torso.

His hands come down to slick my hair back as it gets wet. Speaking sweetly, but nevertheless letting his bemusement show through, he asks, "What are you doing, kid?"

With the water pelting my back and neck, I look up into his violet eyes. "I'm getting married today. How 'bout you?"

He kisses my forehead. "Funny you mention it, I'm getting married too." Linc holds me tight, but reaches behind me to turn off the water.

I feign surprise at his answer. "Phew! – Oh yeah? Who are you marrying?"

He hugs me more adamantly, resting the side of my head against the cool metal ring on his chest, and I start to feel his cock stiffen between our pressing flesh. His hand caresses my back. "I'm marrying the most wonderful guy in the whole world, and funny enough, he's already been my husband for four glorious months."

"Do you know why I had to come in here and hug you just now?"

"No idea, baby."

"Because I was recalling how utterly close to death I came."

"Hush. You had your surgery and have been in remission for three and a half months. You're strong, and sassy, and beautiful, and I'm so happy to be here with you now that we can get married in Ohio too. Justice may not be swift all the time, but it usually catches up to the people and does the right thing eventually."

I lean back, supported by his strong arms, to hold his gaze and tease him. "So, you're saying you'd marry me all over again?"

"I'm saying, I'll commit to you – Mr. Jack Shaw-Oliver – every day for the rest of my life."

"Before God and everybody, Mr. Lincoln Oliver-Shaw?"

"Before our families, our states, our country – and yes, everybody – until they get that it was He who brought us together in the first place."

Instead of tearing up, instead of saying the obvious at this moment about how much I love him, I slyly decide it's better to show him, and fuk the telling part completely.

Still within his embrace, I slide down his wet body to my knees.

I kiss him, waking it up, and holding his amazing lapis-lazuli gaze.

He lifts his arms, saying, "It's time, baby." He raises the leather cord and my brass ring off of his neck and chest. "I need to place this back where it belongs, and where it should stay."

Lincoln slips it over my head, and I let his bodily warmth settle on me.

I grab onto his member, and kiss it a second time. It comes to insistent life as I caress it with my lips, my sight still locked on his, until he needs to kick his head back and moan to the ceiling.

"Jack…I don’t…think…'

That's all he can manage to say before he needs to send his hands out to the tile walls for support.

Now, my eyes may be closed, and my hands laid open-palmed on the muscular thighs of my man while he sends slight shudders through his leg muscles, but my full mouth and I are bound and determined to take something borrowed from Lincoln to the altar with me; something safely tucked within me body and soul.

 

˚˚˚˚˚

 

"Dawn, it's great, isn't it?"

Mrs. Shaw anxiously squeezes my hand.

"Yes, it's an awesome reception. And it was a beautiful ceremony," I tell her.

The smile Jack's mom shines on me through the dappled sunlight is radiantly happy, and understandably relieved.

And she did plan it all too: the late June day is blue and breezy with powder puff clouds rolling overhead and 78 degree weather. The al fresco wedding and reception on the lush grass of this local park with a recreation center to stage everything is simply brilliant.

She and I stand off to the side, peacefully enjoying all the kinetic energy bustling around us. People mill about with glasses of wine and small plates of finger food.

"I'm so glad I went with a luncheon buffet. It's more appropriate for an outdoors reception than a sit-down meal, don’t you think?"

"Yes," I tell the proud parent. "And everyone seems to be having a great time of it too."

And it's true. The sound system is playing a steady stream of sweet jazz while the proper band sets up. The strains of the piped-in music waft over the grass and infectiously gets into people's bobbing heads and tapping toes. I bet the crowd will be cocked and primed by the time the dance floor under the tent gets opened. But for now the happy couple stands at the head of a line, front and center, and shake hands with chatty well-wishers. Mrs. S. settled on a black and white themed wedding, so the boys are smart as spiffs in their inky morning suits, but I have to chuckle about one thing. Jack insisted with his mother that it's 'my wedding too,' and got one more hue added to his mom's restraint color palette: orange. So, the handsome pair in their form-fitted Mr. Peanut-like morning suits have on matching vests and boutonnières of peachy flash. They appear quite frankly beautiful; as beautiful as their beaming faces and loving glances at one another. I just know that memories strong enough for a lifetime are being made and stored right in front of my eyes.

The canopy under which they renewed vows is like a four-arched metal trellis, but one slathered in all sorts of white blossoms. The crowning roof is the same, except for a pinnacle of peach-colored roses and California poppy. It's breathtaking, and further festoons in the same color combination mark out the course of the reception line.

"It's so lovely, Mrs. Shaw," I wind up stammering under the weight of the visual perfection. "This whole affair is awe-inspiring. I hope you'll consider planning my wedding too, someday."

She takes my hand. The gauzy feel of her white silk sleeve brushes the inside of my wrist. "Of course! Someday I'll be proud as punch to help you out on your special day." She chuckles softly. "Any potential husbands yet?"

"Phew! – No!" I laugh outright, channeling Jack's favorite word. "I'm way too young."

Jack's mom smiles slyly and motions with her head. "It seems Lincoln's brother is busy."

It's true. Jackson is stealthily taking pix of Jack and Lincoln's smiles as they meet-n-greet their guests. He's wearing that sexy 'tattoo flash' jacket Mrs. Shaw gave him for Christmas, but that I picked out for him. It looks so hot against the pair of white jeans Lincoln gave him, and that I also picked out, LOL!

"That boy," Mrs. Shaw continues in a lower tone, "is competing with the professional photographer to capture the best moments."

We both laugh, but I realize something. "Well, he does know them better, and has witnessed so much of their struggles, so his 'eye' knows what to look for."

I must have hit her 'emotion button,' for Mrs. S. grows dreamy. "Imagining the situation I was in one year ago, I never would have dreamed it all could have ended this way: Jack back; Jack well; Jack happy. It's all a miracle, isn't it?"

Now it's my turn to go all emo on her. "You forgive me, don’t you?"

"Forgive you for what?"

"For – for lying to you. For keeping Jack's location a secret from you, for deceiving you as his mother."

"I… I understand what you did, and why you were doing it. Do you forgive me for holding that press conference at your school and putting pressure on you so publicly..?"

Forgiven. That's the truth, and it feels great to give and receive it. I let loose with a grin. "I understand why you did it. So, we're all good."

We hug, Mrs. Shaw's orange corsage tickling my cheek. While my chin is still on her shoulder, I catch a flash of awareness that Jackson just snapped a candid shot of me lost in thought. I'll have to plan my revenge on him for that. The boy slinks away, pretending my freshly-plastered evil sneer must be for one of the other guests.

Mrs. S. breaks our embrace with a hearty chuckle. "Well, I for one don’t miss Jack's awful blue hair!"

"Hey, now. Careful. I picked that color… I thought he was cute like that."

"Cute, maybe – but I prefer seeing him as he really is."

"Yes, I agree, as long as it's with a full head of hair. I'm sure Linc thinks so too."

"Well, it all ends on such a happy note, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Mrs. S., on such a happy note."

Jack greets the last of the well-wishers and breaks free to come to us as a mixture of shy smirks and shoulder dips. The health and youthful color riding his cheeks looks so fucking amazing.

His mother hugs him briefly and then starts in with the barrage. "Congratulations, son. Now, eat; did you take your meds yet?"

"Yes, Mom; yes, Mom; love you, Mom."

Hamish, holding his girlfriend's hand, and copping a freakishly exact copy of his younger bro's smile, comes up to join us.

"Amy!" Mrs. Shaw says. "You look beautiful."

They hug, and I agree. Hamish's school belle looks lovely in her silk dress the color of piano keys, and her long blond hair done up and pinned with sprays of baby's breath. Hamish appears a bit uncomfortable in his black suit though. He and Jack shake hands.

"I'm sorry, Jack, for being such a poor brother for so long."

"Hey, no need – "

Hamish cuts him off. "I am sorry, Jack. Just let me get this off my chest – for you too, Mom – and then I know we'll be good if you can accept my apology." He grows partway teary; Amy places a supportive hand against his own waist. "Look, what was it like for me to grow up in a 'sick' household? When Christie was eight years old, and I was eleven years old, we had to hold it together through the double blows of our dad's sudden illness and death at home, and then your first battle with leukemia. Well, it was hard, and recently I've been helped to see that emotionally I was stuck at that age, waiting like a child for someone to 'make it all better.'

"When Christie came to Virginia Tech and told me I was the donor match, I… I, well – let’s just say it wasn't pretty, but your sister, Jack, cleared out all the bullshit from my head. She allowed my heart to work again after all those years. She and I had shared an experience, and together we let go of the long-suppressed anger we'd been holding at our father leaving us.

"Can you forgive me, Jack?"

"It's all right, Hamish. You saved my life, and Lincoln and I owe you everything, bro."

"You changed me, Jack, for the better. And you and Linc showed me what love should look like, so it's me and Amy who owe you guys."

Hamish plants a loving kiss on his girlfriend's cheek.

Mrs. Shaw snuffles back a sniffle.

Amy, peacemaker, chirps out in a warm tone, "Lovely reception, Mrs. Shaw! And you, Jack…" She adjusts his boutonnière, glancing in his spouse's direction. "You sure are one lucky man."

Jack blushes under such intense female scrutiny. "Tell me about it. Lincoln looks so hot – I can't wait for later…" He trails off, remembering his mother's presence.

Hamish slaps his brother's back good-naturedly. "Yep. You're all recovered, and back to being a horny teenager!"

"Hey buddy, watch it. Linc and I have a license to wink-wink, nudge-nudge, so we can do it as much as we want."

"Ok, little brother – then, God speed. I can't wait to have some little nieces and nephews to boss around."

"Wo – " Jack chuckles. "Don’t get ahead of yourself. First it's school for us, then our own house, and then – who knows?"

I can almost feel the pride radiating off of Mrs. Shaw next to me like a space heater. It must be Jack's combination of practical vision – finish school; settling down – combined with a hope for the future ringing clearly in his voice. It's enough to warm the cockles of any motherly heart, but especially heartening to the core of someone who thought her son was doomed a year ago.

Christie comes up in a holiday mood, slips her hand through the crook of Jack's arm, and pulls him away to "Meet some of my friends."

"Well, Amy," Hamish pats his belly. "What do you say to the buffet?"

"I say, thanks again, Mrs. Shaw, and it's always nice to see you, Dawn." She laces her delicate arm through his burly one, and he shows us a warm smile as they turn to walk away.

Jack's mom and I are on our own once more, and we must be thinking the same thought. "See, I told you!" she exclaims as giddy as a schoolchild. "All he needed was a girl in his life to calm him down."

"I don’t know about that…" I shake my head. "I think Hamish couldn’t get and keep a girlfriend – especially not one as wonderful as Amy – until he was free of his guilt and anger."

"Wow, Dawn. I suppose you are right. Maybe as a mother I'm just too close to the problem to see the situation clearly." She takes my hand. "And what about you? Now that you have a young man in your life?"

Involuntarily, my sight wanders over to Jackson snapping a discreet set of photographs of Christie and Jack talking. "Um, the long distance thing is rough, but – " I feel my whole face crack into a giant grin. "It's great; Jackson's great."

She singsongs: "Those Oliver boys sure are charming…"

"Tell me about it!"

"In my day, a long distance relationship meant just that – long distance phone calls. What's it like for the two of you?"

"Pretty much the same: phone calls, texts, and we video chat most nights as we do our summer school assignments together. It's cool, but I'd rather be in the same room with him."

Jack's mom turns all cryptic. "Hmm, well maybe you can, and maybe sooner than you think."

As I am puzzling out her words and scowling at her growing glee, Linc wades through the crowd towards us.

"I see the Doctors Kimball are having a good time." He kisses his mother-in-law, and afterwards we all indulge in a glance that shows us the physicians in question talking to Hamish and Amy in the chow line.

"Yes," Mrs. Shaw says seriously. "I'm so glad Dr. Kimball found some internal support."

"Well, made support," I remind her. "After he 'came out' in favor of a dialogue about treatment, a lot of his colleagues rallied behind his position as the sensible one."

"Well," Lincoln announces generally. "I owe him a lot."

Truth is, we all do, but Linc is probably referring to the fact that after Lincoln got his GED in record time, 'the Doctors Kimballs' both recommended him in glowing terms to the deans of several local pre med programs. In the fall, Linc will be studying at the University of Cincinnati.

Truth is, both of these boys are motivated to excel, for even Jack has applied himself in summer school and is catching up fast. It's another thing for Mrs. Shaw to be proud of.

"Are we interrupting..?"

I turn around to see that Lincoln's father was the one who had asked. He's in a black suit too, and tenderly leads his wife in her peach-colored dress by the elbow.

"Not at all!" Jack's mom says, and makes room for them to join our little circle.

"It's such a wonderful reception," Lincoln's mom tells her. "And the ceremony was just beautiful." She holds out her arms. "Congratulations, son." Linc hugs her, and she lays a happy lip smack on the side of his neck.

They part and his dad extends a hand. "I'm proud of you, son."

After an emotional pause, Lincoln takes it manfully. "Thanks, Dad; thanks, Mom."

I'm about to cry, but then I see Jackson some ten feet in front of me kicking his head to the side like he wants me to follow him. In another moment, I excuse myself and head towards the tent, which is where the younger Oliver boy is drifting.

The 'coast is clear' now, meaning we’re out of the sightline of his folks.

He slips his hand into mine, his camera freely dangling around his neck. "You're just trying to avoid your rents, aren’t you?" I ask him.

"Bingo!"

We take a few steps, hand in hand, and I glance down at how verdant the summer grass is, how soft and giving it is under foot, and have a vague notion that this sensation is going straight into my long term memory.

"Where are you dragging me, Jackson?"

"I saw the band setting up in the tent. They're gonna start the dancing soon, and I want us to have a good vantage." His smile confirms it all. This piece of intelligence is also confirmed by a fanning out of catering staff telling groups one by one and gesturing towards the tent.

We get under it and take a place front and center.

"Are you having a good time, Dawn?"

I squeeze his hand. "Better now."

"Waaa? Lookie there, says the non-sentimental, anti-romantical girl!"

"Shut up." I slap his chest playfully. "Doofus."

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?" The MC is hurrying up the stragglers. "May I have your attention, please. We are about to start the first dance." After the whole crowd assembles around the edges of the dance floor, he continues with a raised hand, "I'd like to call the couple up with their moms for the traditional first dance."

The band strikes up a slow tune, and applause breaks out as Lincoln and his mother, and Jack and Mrs. Shaw come out onto the dance floor. My smile is mirrored in Jackson's as he lifts his camera to shoot away while the sons lead proudly beaming mothers around the parquet. A scan of the faces gathered to witness this, confirms everyone is as moved as I am.

After a few minutes, and with no interruption in the music, the MC smoothly announces: "And now, it is my pleasure to present Jack and Lincoln for their first dance."

The boys separate from their mothers, Jack giving his mom's hand to Hamish, and Lincoln's mom to his father. The newlyweds re-find one another in the center of the floor. Their hands slip around their waists and they sway like they are at total peace.

"You all right, Dawn?" Jackson's tone is tender and reaching.

I realize tears are rolling down my eyes. I wipe them, and tell him, "Take your pictures, shutter boy. Don’t you dare miss this moment."

"Got it covered, and in a moment, you'll see my gift for them."

"Gift?"

His chin jerks up to the screen behind the stage at the same time he lifts his viewfinder to his eye. As if in cue, some images appear there.

              

Jack is sitting in the lounge chair in his room at the Stanford Medical Center with the tray table and breakfast hovering over his lap. His white USA cap is in place, and Linc stands next to him encouraging him to eat. Lincoln looks concerned; concerned and in love.

Jack is standing on the atrium balcony with the big Christmas tree behind him. A beaming Linc has his arm around his boy's shoulders, and Jack is smiling and wearing Lincoln's USA cap and letterman Jacket.

There starts a whole series of Christmas pix from our bedside gift exchange:

- Lincoln and Mrs. Shaw are hugging, and the thought pops into my head remembering that was the moment Linc first referred to Jack's mom as 'Mom.'

- Hamish and Christie standing and looking confused and pissed at the 'mother/son display.'

- Then, the opening of the presents, and Mrs. Shaw holding up her Neiman-Marcus Texas Fruitcake Slices with an awkward grin. Hmm, I wonder what ever happened to those..? Probably some 'lucky' kid on Jack's floor got them – or, they remain uneaten to this day, lol.

- Oh shit… There's one of me holding my sweatshirt with the pink hearts on it. Did I really look that…that…happy?

- A candid shot showing Hamish and Christie cheerful with Jack's gifts to them: a wallet and a silk scarf.

- Jack in his bed is holding up a box of chocolate-covered cherries. The expression on his face says it all: 'What am I supposed to do with these..?'

 

I glance around, and the couple's parents, Hamish and Christie, and others – including even some of the catering staff – are watching the screen and dancing newlyweds with folded arms and wide smiles.

 

Oh no… More embarrassment for me, for now shots of our rooftop picnic start to roll:

- There I am, reaching for the Brie with lust-driven eyes and a baguette piece in my hand.

- A sad shot of me alone. It's showing me at my lowest, by the roof parapet, gazing out, but not seeing anything but doubts and fear for Jack's recovery.

Next is a shot that almost makes me gasp: Lincoln and his mother hugging in the extradition-hearing courtroom after Linc's freedom. It's touching because both seem to be genuinely relieved.

For a change of pace, the following shot is of a nearly nude Lincoln. He is standing by the closet area of his The Hermione Motor Lodge room, holding his gray jeans, but wearing nothing but a white towel around his waist. He seems lost in thought – apparently about Jack.

The crowd around us lets out a big laugh, as the next image is showing a totally studly Lincoln Oliver, still in only his towel, copping a cocky boxing pose with a happy sneer on his face.

 

My attention falls to Jack and Linc. They are still slow dancing, but laughing and hugging as they watch the photos fade from one to the next. Jack sees my intent watching of them, and shoots a silent raspberry to me with eyes reduced to giddy slits.

 

Valentine's Day shots roll next:

- Another blushing moment for me is achieved as I'm shown kissing Jackson on the cheek, a green-foil wrapped frog planted in my grip.

- Now everybody sighs rhapsodically, for the image on the giant screen is of Lincoln kneeling by Jack's bedside, a ring poised over the boy's finger – it's the proposal.

- The crowd erupts into cheers and gasps of tender disbelief as the next image shows Lincoln kneeling on the bed, the ring firmly accepted and slipped on his Jack's finger. Lincoln is tenderly hugging and kissing his fiancé.

The reception party of friends and relatives goes pin-drop silent all at once, for now the screen shows the boys linking hands, and Reverend Holbrook marrying them.

The final shot of the slide show is of the two newlyweds sharing their first kiss as spouses.

There is barely a dry eye in the house, and when my attention drifts back out to them, Jack and Lincoln are demonstrating the full revival of that kiss. Slow clapping breaks out as the music ends, and as the boys do not seem to hear or care. They only continue their heart-kindled, closed-eyed kiss, while the applause rise to thunderous levels. Finally they look around, and just as everybody wants them to, take a bow.

 

Overcome with emotions I guess, I slip my hand around Jackson's waist. I've come to love these moments when his violet eyes leave the lens behind and look squarely at me.

"At this time, ladies and gentlemen," croons the MC. "I invite everyone onto the dance floor."

I pull him out with me, and in the same motion, he slings his camera across his back. We dance as the band strikes up another slow number, and I have to say, this feels right, like soft grass below my feet.

I tell him, "Mrs. Shaw was just saying something cryptic about you and me being able to see each other more."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes – don’t act 'dumb' – she did. So, would you like to fill me in?"

"Ok, Dawn, here’s my news. Jack's mom will host me. I'll live with Jack and Lincoln, and as Hamish and Amy will bum around Europe for the summer and fall, I'm staying in Ohio. I've already unpacked and moved upstairs into Hamish's old room, now that Jack and Linc have reclaimed the basement as their own honeymoon suite."

I joke, "Jack's One Direction poster is like a two-way street, and probably getting carsick by now."

"But the real news is that my folks gave me permission to stay here, so in the autumn, I'll join Indian Hill High with you and Jack as seniors."

I get snarky, trying desperately to suppress my giddiness. "Ah, you've got it all worked out, don’t you?"

"Well, all worked out except for one thing."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"You said you don’t like dorks who make a public spectacle of themselves – "

"What's that got to do with it?"

He grins. "Ah, maybe nothing – maybe something."

I'm not gonna let his games get to me, I've just decided, so instead I co-opt the conversation with a subject change. "You look very handsome in your jacket."

"Thanks, but by the time I get married, I will own my own tux."

"Making wedding plans already?"

Jackson blushes. "Not really."

We both gaze off to watch Jack and Lincoln dancing.

I wind up sighing. "God, I want that for my life too – a perfect love."

"It's not that rare." Jackson's serious tone makes me see his eyes have changed. "Maybe it happens and people aren’t open to receiving it and unintentionally drive it away."

I barely whisper: "Like us, you mean?"

"Exactly like us."

We sway to the dance music.

"Destiny brought us together..?" I ask.

"Well," he chuckles a tiny bit. "At least Jack and Lincoln's destiny brought us together, but yes, it's ours too."

"So then, what are you saying, Mr. Oliver?"

"I am saying, one, I love you, and two, we can make it work. Please say you won’t shut me out."

I draw him in closer, resting my head on his chest. I am surprised to hear how fast his heart is beating. 'Yes, it's some kind of fate,' I think, letting my eyes close. 'This wonderful guy is my destiny.'

I grab his ass, pulling back to flash Jackson a full smile.

"I don’t see a promise ring on my finger, do you?"

"Nope."

"Guess that means 'I'm available,' for now."

"Oh, so it's one of those buyer's markets at the moment, is it?"

I smack his chest. "I'm nothing but a piece of real estate for you to stick your 'sold' sign into..?"

I sputter to a stop, because it looks like Jackson is about to cry.

"I love you, Dawn."

Trying not to melt myself, I tell him, "You're such a sap – a big aggressive, alpha male, Type-A personality cheeze-ball."

"Don’t make me cry, Dawn. Tell me if you love me too."

My hand strokes his chest. "Don’t worry, dweeb. I love your cheese-ball more than anything – except – I love the real you even more."

We come tighter for a kiss, and our dancing drifts to a stop.

Getting flushed all over, I push him back a little bit. "Sixteen-year-old girl here – don’t want the cops on your case."

We both laugh and resume dancing. Jackson whispers softly into my ear. "There's one more thing I want to do."

"What's that?"

"You have two choices. One, pull my finger." He holds it out.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"

"Well, you only have two choices, and now that you've summarily rejected the first, you must accept the second."

"Dude – "

He cuts me off. "Pat my pocket."

I inhale a joking chortle. "What!"

He pivots his hip slightly to raise his right pants leg towards me.

"What's going on?" The skepticism drips from my tone.

"Do you trust me, lover?"

I laugh: "Um, hello – no."

"Dawn, baby…"

I sigh in mock frustration and gingerly pat the top of his thigh, right where the bottom of his pocket is inside. I can feel my eyes grow round. "What’s that?"

"Do you want me to take it out, or would you like to do it?"

"Stop playing now." I make no bones about it. "Dig it out."

We stop dancing, and he takes half a step back. His left hand touches the bottom of the pocket to keep it from riding up as his right hand digs.

In a blurring motion, three things happen simultaneously: Jackson pulls up a ring with a stone that looks like a faceted amethyst, he falls to one knee, and my hands fly involuntarily to cover my mouth that's gone all agape.

"Dawn, you are only sixteen, but I love you more than anything else in this world. Will you accept my promise ring? Dawn, will you be my one and only girlfriend?"

A shuddering laugh escapes through my tears. "Of course I will, now stand up and kiss me!"

In a whirlwind, Jackson not only rises, but picks me up by the waist, hoists me, and slightly spins.

He lets me fall in a controlled slide across his body until our lips lock. With my eyes closed, and our passion growing, I perceive him picking up my left hand and placing his ring on it.

As if my senses are only just coming back to me, I seem to hear the sound of rippling water. We part lips and turn to see the crowd has stopped dancing to watch us, and are now applauding. Lincoln and Jack are in the vanguard; Linc suddenly puts two fingers in his mouth and lets out a celebratory whistle.

Mrs. Shaw may have lingering doubts about young people staying together, but statistics be damned. Love is love, and love is worth fighting for.

 

˚˚˚˚˚

 

I'm so glad I grabbed my Lincoln's hand and found this place to be apart from our guests for a few minutes.

Now I sit nestled between his legs, his back leaning against the wall of this corridor of the rec center.

We've slipped out of our monkey suit jackets and rolled up our sleeves so our skin can be in contact; his hands holding and occasionally stroking my forearms and the top of my hands.

"Know what this reminds me of, Linc?"

"No, baby. What?"

"That day we sat on the floor at the Santa Monica merry-go-round."

"I remember it well." He kisses the nape of my neck, sending goose bumps all up and down my body.

My fingers caress the wide gold band on his left ring finger a moment before I lace our hands together and feel my mom's gifted wedding band stroke his. "How does it feel?" I ask. "Comfortable; not too big?"

"It's perfect, Jack. I feel so moved every time I realize how special my new ring is."

"My dad would have wanted you to have his ring, and wear it. It's his blessing on us and our union just like my mom's ring on my finger is."

"I still can't believe your mom and Hamish gave it to me… I feel so honored, Jack, to be loved by your mom, and accepted by your brother. It's a great feeling."

"Yes, they love you – my mom and Hamish have to, everybody does, but not as much as I do."

He kisses the nape of my neck again, making me momentarily swoon. I sing to him a bit of the melody that's been playing through my head most of the day; he rocks me between his arms and legs, and the lyrics smile as I sing softly:

 

"I feel with you like the prodigal son returned to his

feast.

I feel with you like the misanthrope boy about to be

released…"

 

"It's beautiful, Jack. You know how I love Woodkid. I know how we both love him; he brought us together for the first time on the rooftop in L.A."

"He sure did, and now we're connected, totally." He squeezes me tightly, swaying some more, and I suddenly recall something else. "Do you want to hear about my dream last night?"

"If it's a happy one, husband."

"It is, husband. I dreamed I had the big lawn of a Victorian house in front of us. You and I were sipping lemonade on the porch, and – "

He cuts me off. "And, don’t tell me, we were watching our kids play. Right?"

I'm amazed. "How, I mean, why would you ask that?"

"Simple. It's because that's a dream I've had many times myself."

I turn within his embrace so I can see his violet eyes – the seat of where his deep beauty and stillness lives.

"No, baby." I stroke his cheek and let my tears fall freely.

"I'm sorry, Jack. It's ok, I – "

"Lincoln, I love you so much… But listen, in my dream it was not our kids we were watching."

"Oh, Jack."

"Yes, it was our grandkids."

He draws me in and hugs me tight. I have never felt more alive.

"Yes, Jack. It's a beautiful vision, and I know it will come true."

I reposition myself so I'm kneeling on either side of his waist, then sit on his lap so we are face to face. My hands rest on his shoulders, and his hands come around to caress my lower back. "How do you know it will come true?"

"Listen, kid – whatever challenges wait for us in the future, none of them will beat what we've already been through. We're tough, you and I, and our love is even tougher."

"So, you do love me, huh?" I let my smile beam for him.

"I just said 'I do,' didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did say that, but…"

"But nothing! You gonna make me repeat it?!"

"Yes, my sexy beast. I'm gonna make you repeat it everyday for the rest of your life. So, tell me."

His hands come up to gently cover my ears. He mouths to me with a gaze that is nearly overcome with tears. "I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U, S-O M-U-C-H – "

"Enough," I say, falling onto his lips. "I know, baby, and I love you, my beautiful Lincoln Oliver, now and forever."

 

                    ~