Chapter Thirty-Three
Lori
Saturday morning, Cole and I arrive at my mother’s new apartment which is off the Hudson River, both of us dressed in jeans and the new Summer and Brooks T-shirts that we just had made; mine pink, and his navy. “I have no idea why I’m nervous,” I say, as we ride up in the elevator. “I’ve met Joe. I’ve even been to the apartment, so I’ve seen it. It’s stunning.”
Cole pulls me close. “Not since the day she moved in. You love your mother. Your biggest fear has been her getting hurt again.”
“Yes. I love her. I’m so afraid he’ll hurt her.”
“Today’s good then,” he says. “You need to find peace with her new life.”
The elevator dings and I pant out a breath. “And here we go.”
“It’ll be good.”
I nod and we exit into the hallway. Once we’re at the door, I ring the bell and my mother answers almost immediately, and she’s radiant. Her brown hair is long and shiny, her green eyes alight with happiness. Her petite frame fit. “Honey!” she hugs me and then moves to Cole. “My other honey now.”
Cole laughs and embraces her before she waves us in. “Joe is in the kitchen slaving away. Come.” She heads down the long hallway, white tile beneath our feet and we enter the living area that is an open concept with the kitchen, a wall of windows allowing the water to become the centerpiece of the room.
“Hey, everyone!” Joe calls out, scooping pancakes onto a plate from a skillet on the stove smack in the center of a large, black granite island.
My mother joins him and she’s tiny compared to Joe, who is a good six-foot-three and fit, with muscles that go on forever, while his goatee is flecked with gray to match his hair.
Cole and I join them, and Joe really is a great guy. He and Cole start talking and the rapport between the men is instant. A few minutes later, we sit down to eat. “So, Joe,” I say. “You’re an architect. That’s very interesting. How did you get interested in design work?”
“I was young and in the special forces and happened to rescue a rather famous architect. We were in hiding together for months. He stirred my interest, taught me skills that he said should have taken much longer to learn and I was hooked. When I got out, I went to school and the rest is history. I designed this building.”
“He’s incredible,” my mother says, stars in her eyes. Too many stars. They’re still new.
“Have you been married before?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says. “Happily. She died. And I was alone a long time until I met your mother. Which is why I don’t intend to lose her. I’ve asked her to marry me.”
I suck in air and Cole’s hand squeezes my leg. “What?”
“I love her very much.”
My mother reaches into her pocket and pulls out her ring, holding it up, and then sticking it on her finger. “I didn’t want you to see it until we told you.” She holds it out and it’s a stunning solitaire. And big. Really big. “I love it. Do you love it?”
I look at Joe, his eyes holding mine, and I let myself see what is there. Let myself see the love. I let myself let go of the past. I turn my attention to my mother. “It’s gorgeous. I do love it. And I’m so happy for you.” I hug her and hug her and hug her.
“I want to get married in the Hamptons,” she says. “We love it. We’d like to use your place there, now that we know it’s yours. Can we?”
“We’d be honored to host your wedding,” Cole says.
“Yes,” I agree. “Honored. When?”
“The sooner the better,” Joe says. “But I want it to be special for your mother.”
She looks at him. “For us.”
“For us, baby,” he says, and the endearment both punches me in the chest and makes me smile. He’s not my father, but I believe Joe is happiness for my mother. I believe he’s her Prince Charming. Like Cole is mine.
A long time later, when we are at home, I tell him just that. “You are my Prince Charming.”
He laughs. “Do I get to be in charge then? I mean, if I’m a prince and all.”
“Don’t get any ideas.”
“I do have some ideas,” he says lifting me and carrying me up the stairs, and setting me on the chair in our bedroom, in front of the window before going down on a knee. “Let me show you some of my ideas.” He pulls a black box from under the chair and sets it in my lap. “Open it and pick your pleasure.”
Curious I open the box and find all kinds of sexy items I’ve never dared or even considered using. “Scared?” he asks.
“No,” I say. “This is you. I will do anything or go anywhere with you.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.” I set the box aside and lace my fingers at his neck. “You’re only a Prince Charming because I trust you that much. And trust is everything.”
“You,” he says, stealing a kiss, “are everything.” He pulls me to him and we go down on the rug, the box forgotten. There’s just us, and no matter what we face, no matter who we battle, the District Attorney included, we can’t lose, because we have each other. We are everything, and for the first time in my life, letting someone else be part of my everything is safe. It’s perfect. I really do have my happily ever after.
The End