Chapter 34 Taste the Rainbow Cara
Four months later, Halloween
“I JUST DON’T SEE WHY the parents aren’t allowed to dress up. What kind of message does it send to the kids if we’re putting age limits on Halloween costumes?”
I don’t bother reminding Carter that, while he may be a parent, he is not a parent to any of the children who attend this school.
It’s a point at least one of us has made several times recently, kind of like how this entire conversation/argument about Carter not being allowed to wear a costume to the school Halloween parade has been had no fewer than five times in the last three days.
“I have to admit,” Jaxon starts, crossing his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes as he leans against the wall in the school gym, “it does feel a little exclusive. Like, Mittens wanted to come, and I had to break it to him that—”
“Did he say that?”
His gaze slides to me. “What?”
“Mittens. Your cat. Did he say he wanted to come?”
He stares at me. Blinks once, then twice. “He didn’t need to say it. We have a soul connection.”
“Mhmm. And maybe it’s that type of unhinged behavior from adults that requires the school to put rules like these in place.”
“Did you just—did she just—” Jaxon looks between me and Emmett, who simply lifts his brows. He scowls, bending to hide his mouth in Lennon’s hair. “Honey, Cara just called me an unhinged cat daddy.”
“I certainly did not call you a cat daddy. And we all know who’s in charge of the group costumes.
” I circle a hand around Carter’s frowny face.
“No need to scar unsuspecting children with the amount of thigh you probably plan to show.” See: two years ago, when he made the guys dress up as the Spice Girls.
Or a couple years before that, when they were all a different Britney Spears.
Carter rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go. How many times do I have to say this? What’s the point of having luscious thighs if I can’t show them off?” He jabs Emmett in the chest. “Plus, your husband was the first to suggest this year’s costume.”
Emmett squeezes the bridge of his nose. “It was a joke! I said it while laughing!”
Carter blinks. “Do I strike you as someone who jokes about costumes?”
Adam’s head bobs. “Yeah, to be fair, Em, that one’s on you. You should have known better.”
Garrett scuffs at the gym floor, huffing. “He was this close to settling on Taylor Swift eras before your little suggestion.” He throws his arms wide. “I had my Fearless outfit picked out already!”
Jaxon shoves him. “I was gonna be the Fearless era!”
Garrett shoves him back. “No, I was!”
Ireland stomps her foot, fists balled at her side. “No, me!” She leans toward me, hand in front of her mouth as if that’ll hide her words. It doesn’t; she hasn’t figured out whispering yet. “I don’t know what we yellin’ ’bout.”
I stifle my snort as Olivia rolls her eyes.
Suddenly, the lights in the gym dim, and “Monster Mash” surrounds us.
I fumble for my purse, pulling out my phone.
“Oh, it’s starting! Everyone shut up!” Rosie and I elbow everyone out of the way—politely, or whatever—kneeling with our phones pointed at the door.
Emmett and Adam hang back for a solid three seconds, but the second the gym door opens, they rush over.
I glance at my husband, trying to subtly shift in front of Adam, like he’s worried the man with a whole two inches on him might block his view. “Way to play it cool,” I mutter to him.
“Pssh. I am cool. I—oh my God, it’s starting!
” Emmett all but shoves Adam out of the way, holding his phone out, recording as one of the kindergarten classes starts filtering into the gym.
He looks back at me, the grin that splits his face so beautiful, I’d fall to my knees if I weren’t already on them. “Care, firefly, look! It’s starting!”
Giggling, I shake my head, watching the line of kids parade into the middle of the gym. There are princesses and pirates, superhero dogs, dragons, what I’m pretty sure is a child dressed as a—
“Cat lady!” Jaxon points to the little girl in a fluffy robe and her hair in big rollers, cat stuffies pinned all over her. “That kid’s a cat lady!” He starts a slow clap that nobody else joins in on, but it doesn’t deter him. “Give her the award! Best. Costume. Ever!”
“Who the fuck decided to alternate the kindergarteners with the eighth graders?” Rosie grumbles as a line of big kids follows the first class, instead of the next kindergarten class. “If I need to take over parent council, I will.”
“Rosie as an aggressive mama bear is my favorite animal,” I murmur, followed by a sigh as the second kindergarten class starts, and it’s still not Abel’s.
“Seven fucking kindergarten classes,” I mutter.
“Was everyone fucking like bunnies four years ago, or what? Can nobody keep it in their pants? They should really try some restra—there he is!” My heartbeat does that thing it does every time I get a moment to just look at this boy, at this brilliant, incredible kid who life gifted us with.
That silly little beat patters so hard, so fast, until it trips over itself, and then slows.
All but rolls to a stop, until it’s the only thing I hear, a soft but steady reminder that, sometimes, the most beautiful things take time.
That’s how I feel when I look at my son.
I watch my favorite stegosaurus pause just inside the door, causing a traffic jam behind him as his wide, uncertain eyes move around the gym.
Sometimes, I swear I see a whole lifetime in those cool green depths.
Wonder and curiosity, patience and uncertainty, courage and adventure.
I see fear, I see grief, and beyond it all I see happiness, and so, so much love.
I see a lifetime, the one we’ve lived on our way to him, and him on the way to us.
The one we live now, where the love we share always outweighs the rest, no matter where our days take us.
And as those eyes connect with mine, as Abel spots us, his family, all the people gathered here to watch him march around his school gym in a dinosaur costume he hasn’t taken off since it arrived in the mail three weeks ago, I can say without a shadow of a doubt that it’s all been worth it.
The trip here, the years spent wishing and hoping and praying, the wild, unforgiving ride, the detonating crash that split every inch of me apart and stole the breath from my lungs, and the treacherous climb back up to the place where I built myself brand-new.
All of it, every single minute on the way to him, was worth it.
“Mommy! Daddy!”
A grin splits my face in two as that little boy ditches his line, races over as best he can while wearing horns and a tail longer than he is tall.
He collides with Emmett and me as the rest of our family hoots and hollers, and I sink into the feeling, this certainty that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be in this life, loving and being loved by exactly who I’m meant to.
And that? That right there is a special kind of peace.
Abel shifts back, sniffling as he tries to wipe at the tears on his pink cheeks. He fails miserably, his dino hands far too big.
Smiling softly, I brush the tears away. “Why are you crying, sweet boy?”
“I’m so lucky,” he manages on a hiccup. “I’m so lucky you’re my mommy and my daddy.”
I take his hand in mine, squeezing gently as Emmett cradles Abel’s face in his strong hands and tells him with no uncertainty, “And we’re so lucky you’re our Abel.”
THERE’S SOMETHING ESPECIALLY ADMIRABLE ABOUT getting shushed at a school Halloween parade. Shameful? I mean, I guess, if you care what other people think. But admirable? Absolutely.
“Sue me for loving my kid out loud.” A door slams, and Adam struts out of the bathroom at Carter and Olivia’s, a furrow etched between his brows.
It’s been there for three hours now. I’m concerned it’s permanent.
“All I said was that’s my girl! So what if I followed it up with a fist whoop?
It’s not like I took off my shirt and whipped it around. ”
I assume he’s talking about when Lily’s class joined the gym, and she proudly paraded around it dressed as a veterinarian. It’s true, he didn’t take off his shirt and whip it around. He used the cardigan he’d pulled off ten minutes prior to that.
“You’re a bad influence.” He gestures wildly at me, the same way he’s apparently grasping at straws.
“I never got in trouble before I met you. Then you were all like, ‘Adam, you should talk more. Adam, no need to be shy around us. Adam, be proud to be exactly who you are without holding back.’ ” He throws his arms overhead, blue eyes wild.
“Now suddenly I’m getting shushed at an event for children. ”
“First of all, that impression?” I pinch my thumb and pointer finger together, giving him an okay.
“Ten outta ten. I’m flattered by the accuracy, Adam, thank you.
” I place my hand over my heart in sincerity.
“Second of all—I’m sorry. I can’t.” I close my eyes and stifle a laugh, waving a hand in front of my face.
“I can’t take you seriously dressed like that. What… what are you wearing?”
Adam looks down at himself, picking up his feet in his baggy jeans, tugging at the light-pink polo shirt that he’s—somehow—drowning in, despite being six five.
“It’s a five-XL,” he complains, but it’s the long red locks he tosses over his shoulder that have me gripping my stomach, bending over the counter as howling laughter comes barreling out of me.
“I told Carter it’s not fair. Why does everyone else get to dress sexy and I have to wear this? ”
Rosie arches a brow, and I gotta hand it to her, I have no idea how she’s managing to hold it together right now. “You’d prefer to show some skin?”
“No.” Adam pouts, crossing his arms, scuffing at the floor. “Yes. I mean, everyone else is.”