Chapter Twenty-Six
“I’m scared to admit it, but I think I’m in love. It’s with myself, but that still counts.” -Molly
ELIZABETH
January was one of those exceptionally dreary months. When you’re forced out into the Denver sludge, the cars and trucks making a mess of the snow that was once blanketing it in beautiful sheets of white—now gray—with muck from the underside of tires, you really appreciate home.
Today I was forced to take the long route to my work, which means parking three blocks away in the parking lot reserved for no one, meaning it was free parking, and slogging my way through the streets.
Last night it snowed, and I watched with Derek, Rora, and Hattie as the snow fell in heavy flakes, Frosty the Snowman on TV, and we had hot chocolates in hand.
My goal through January and the continuing months of winter was to keep up the joy and not let myself slide into a dark, cold, don’t want to leave my house time.
So the cure to that is to pretend it is the same months that lead up to Christmas and have a party on March first.
Of course, this is Colorado. So, there’s always the chance for a very cold and wet March, but I’m hoping that we can get to spring as fast as possible.
My phone pings with a text, and I reach into my laptop bag, pulling it out and smiling at the name.
DEREK: I think we should do something fun tonight.
That was one thing about Derek I loved, he always wanted to do something fun. Whether it was going to a movie, or making cookies at home, or watching the snow fall, it’s all fun by his side.
ELIZABETH: What do you have in mind?
DEREK: Well, I may have already bribed your sister into babysitting. I wouldn’t mind some one-on-one time if that sounds good to you.
ELIZABETH: I could be persuaded.
I bite my lip at the giddy feeling in my stomach, my heartbeat ticking up higher and higher at the thought of a date with him.
It’s funny. We’ve been dating for months, and he’s been basically officially made part of the family, and I still get giddy when I see him.
I still have that unrelenting feeling of butterflies in my stomach.
DEREK: I’ll pick you up at six. Wear something warm.
ELIZABETH: Will we be outside?
DEREK: Yup. But don’t worry, I’ll hold you close.
The butterflies in my stomach start fluttering their wings in giddy excitement as I slip into my desk chair and sigh.
I am so gone for this man.
“Ice skating?” I ask with shock, looking at the rink outside. There are beautiful string lights over the rink, the high-rises surrounding the rink are lit up, making it feel like an actual Hallmark movie come to life.
People are giggling and talking as they skate effortlessly around the rink, while some laugh as they fall.
“Yup,” Derek says, his gloved hand clasping mine and tugging me toward the line to get skates. Derek is in jeans and a heavy coat along with a stocking cap on his head. He couldn’t have been more adorable if he tried.
“Do you do this often?” I ask, eyeing the rink. I’m not the worst skater in the world, but it’s been years since I’ve tried, so I may be a contender for that title now.
“Not really,” Derek shrugs, turning to me while we wait our turn, his hands wrapping around my waist. He tugs me close, and I let my arms rest on his as we look into each other’s eyes. “I’ve been a few times over the years with friends and stuff.” He looks at me with worry. “You okay with this?”
“I think so,” I say, moving forward when the line prompts us. “I haven’t skated since long before Aurora was born, so I may drag you down.”
“Nah, I won’t let you,” Derek assures me, and we get to our turn.
The teenager who works the stand looks bored out of his mind, like anything we say will make his job that much harder.
Letting him know our shoe sizes, he sighs as he walks to the back wall to gather the skates, and Derek and I look at each other with the same face.
I laugh, and we get our skates. Derek pays, though I try to help, but he waves me off. “If you want to pay, you’ll have to ask me out.”
“That’s so not true,” I argue as we walk to a bench to put our skates on. “I planned the baseball date, and you didn’t let me pay for anything.”
“Yeah, because I still asked you out, Birdie. That doesn’t count.”
“Fine.” I lift my nose, skates are now on and tightened. “I’ll have to plan one then.”
“Fine with me, baby.” We stand together and slowly make our way to the edge of the rink. It’s wobblier than I remember, and my older bones don’t feel quite as pliant as they once were.
“Whoa!” I start to tip, and Derek, sturdy as always, holds me up.
“I got you.”
We reach the edge, and I grab the side for a moment, waiting for an opening to step in.
Derek takes this moment to lead us, stepping onto the rink and grabbing my hands before I can clutch the railing hard enough to stay attached to it.
“Derek! I’m not practiced!”
“I have you, Birdie,” he tells me. His voice is full of humor, and his brown eyes light up. “I’m not going to let you fall.”
I grip his hands tightly, my knees actually wobbling with the movement as he tugs, making my feet skate without my permission. I let out a little squeal as he pulls me close enough that our skates almost touch, but not too close to where he’s physically holding me up.
We make our way around the rink three or four times before I finally feel calm enough to only hold one of his hands, and my movements come back to me like muscle memory.
“Okay, see, you got this,” Derek says with praise, giving me the grin I always love on his face.
“Fine, but you are a liar.”
He balks, looking at me with surprise. “I’m not a liar.”
“You have to be. You acted like you barely ever come here.”
“I don’t. I bet I’ve skated more recently than you have, but I haven’t had a young daughter to take care of until now.”
I pause for a moment and look between the people and ice in front of me and back to the man holding my hand, carefully navigating us.
“Well, that’s… true.” I don’t know if I should pull his attention to the fact that he called Rora his daughter too, but the tears that are gathering rapidly in my eyes and the thickness in my throat don’t want me to let go of the facts.
Derek, ever perceptive, notices my tears before I can hide them and looks at me with shock. “Birdie? What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, letting a tear slip and cursing my emotions. “Nothing. Actually, everything is really great.”
My voice does not convey how wonderful I truly feel.
It’s so bad that Derek pulls us over to the side so he can stop and look at me. His body holds mine against the railing, and he bends so he can see me eye-to-eye.
“Birdie, what did I say?”
I shake my head again. “Nothing. You didn’t say anything, I promise.”
He eyes me with disbelief. “Well, that’s obviously not true, baby, because you’re crying your eyes out when we’re supposed to be having a fun date night.”
“I’m crying.” I hiccup, taking a breath and wiping my eyes. Derek joins the endeavor. “Because I’m happy.”
His calloused fingers pause on my cheeks, his expression bewildered. “You’re happy? And you’re crying about it?”
I nod my head. “Yeah.”
“Babe.” He laughs and leans in close, kissing my tear-stained face. “I’m happy too. I love being with you, you don’t need to cry, though.”
I sigh and finally look him in the eyes. There is so much concern and love in them that I practically feel it radiating out of his pores. “You said you didn’t have a daughter to take care of,” I start, watching his brows furrow in confusion. “Until now.”
For a moment, I watch him mull this bit of information over, and he bites his lip. “Okay. I… still don’t understand.”
“You said ‘until now.’”
Derek implores me with his eyes, a slight tinge of panic on the edges as he watches me. “Birdie, I love you dearly, and for my sake and the love you feel for me, I need you to explain how I fucked up so I can make it better.”
I laugh at his statement, and a bit of relief hits him, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips when he realizes he’s not in trouble. “You said ‘until now.’ Which means you now consider yourself a parent. Like a parent to Rora.”
He licks his lips and watches me for a moment.
“I.” He pauses, clearly working over what he wants to say, and it’s my turn to panic.
Maybe he didn’t mean it like that. Maybe I read way too much into it, and now I’m going to be embarrassed until my dying day and never ever see him again because of said embarrassment.
“I love Rora,” he finally says, giving me a shrug.
“I love you both. You’re my family, hell, your family is now my family.
I would consider it an honor to be Rora’s stepdad someday. ”
There’s some meaning in that statement, a big, profound one that I refuse to acknowledge out of fear of misinterpreting it, so I just smile at him, and he leans down, pressing his lips to my own and holding me close.
For several long minutes, we stay like that, kissing and holding each other, and there are so many things I want to say, to ask, to offer, but right now, I just want to hold on to this moment with just us, wrapped in a perfect, happy bubble.