Chapter 21 - Lila #2
Mia ran her fingers along the stove top. “It’s over now, Mom. And this is awesome.”
Vance pulled me against his chest. “It truly is spectacular.”
I leaned into him, breathing in the scents of fresh paint and the ocean air coming through the open windows.
“It will be the heart of this home,” Vance said. “Think of all the meals we’ll have here.”
“All the popping of corks,” I said.
“Making cookies,” Margot added.
“Wait,” Vance said, his eyes lighting up. “There’s one more thing on this floor. The most important room in the house—besides the kitchen.”
“Your office?” Mia guessed.
“Better.” He led us to a door beside the pantry that I’d designed to look like part of the wall paneling. When he opened it, stairs descended into soft, amber light.
We followed him down into a temperature-controlled wine cellar that took my breath away every time I saw it. The contractor had done an incredible job bringing my vision to life.
Reclaimed wood walls. Custom floor-to-ceiling wine racks holding hundreds of bottles, organized by region and varietal. A small tasting table with four chairs. Soft lighting that made the bottles glow like jewels. A ladder on rails for reaching the highest shelves.
“Whoa,” Mia breathed. “This is so cool.”
Vance ran his hand along one of the racks, his expression almost reverent. “This is my favorite room in the house. Well, tied with the kitchen.”
“How many bottles can you fit?” Margot asked.
“About eight hundred. Right now I have around three hundred, so plenty of room to grow.”
“Can we have wine tastings down here?” Mia asked.
“Your mother and I can. When you’re twenty-one, you can join us,” Vance said, laughing. “But yes. Family and friend tastings will happen frequently. I want to teach you both about wine and food pairings. Maybe you’ll find it to be one of your passions, just as it is for your mother and me.”
“I don’t like it down here,” Margot said. “It’s cold.”
“Temperature controlled, not cold,” Vance said, laughing again. “But, it’s time to see the bedrooms. I hope you two are ready to have your minds blown.”
We climbed the wide stairs with a white railing to the second floor.
We stopped first in the bedroom Vance and I were to share.
I’d chosen soft whites and gentle blues, wide plank floors, a king bed dressed in crisp linens and layered pillows.
There were windows on two walls, one overlooking the ocean.
Matching reading chairs by the window swiveled to face either the ocean view or the fireplace.
Vance had chosen a painting from Delphine’s gallery.
A simple coastal landscape that we’d hung above the bed.
“Check out the bathroom,” Vance said to the girls, opening a door to reveal a soaking tub and a shower worthy of a spa. “And a walk-in closet.”
“We needed that for all of Vance’s clothes,” I said, nudging him with my elbow.
“I’m a dandy. I own it,” Vance said, pulling me against him.
“This is nice, but we want to see our rooms,” Mia said.
“Yes, yes. Onward,” Vance said.
Down the hall, Mia’s room was sophisticated but still young.
She and Vance had pored over interior design magazines for inspiration.
She’d said she wanted a room that seemed French.
We’d chosen a powder blue paint for the walls and white furniture.
I’d found a whimsical brass chandelier at an antique shop that Mia had been ecstatic over.
An art corner, with an easel—shelves for her favorite books—a tufted upholstered bed with light bedding in layers of soft blue, white, and gray tones.
I’d arranged a lamp, framed photos, and small plants on a white nightstand with gold-accented hardware.
A white shag rug added warmth to the wooden floor.
Soft, cream-colored curtains allowed natural light to pour in, highlighting the tranquil palette.
“This is mine?” Mia stood in the doorway, eyes wide.
“All yours,” I said.
“It’s perfect. Actually perfect.” She launched herself at me, squeezing tight. “Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Vance.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” I said.
“Can we see mine now, please?” Margot asked.
“Yes, you’ve been very patient,” I said, taking her hand.
She’d asked for soft pinks and mints, white furniture, and fairy lights strung above the bed like tiny stars.
I’d found floral bedding in shades of blush and cream.
A gallery wall of empty frames, waiting for her own photos and art.
Small plants in woven baskets, their leaves reaching toward the light.
A cozy reading nook by the window where the afternoon sun spilled across the floor.
And in the corner, suspended from the ceiling—a white macramé egg chair with soft cushions and a fuzzy throw.
A place for a little girl to dream big dreams.
“A swing,” Margot said. “I have a swing in my room.”
“Is it what you imagined?” I asked. She’d pointed one out in a magazine, and I’d searched for days to find the exact right piece.
“It’s even better,” Margot said.
“And do you see who’s sitting there?” Vance asked.
“My rabbit.” Margot ran to the chair and picked up the stuffed animal, brushing her fingers over his plush ears. We’d washed and fluffed him, but he still looked well-loved. “Where did you find him?”
“He was in one of the boxes with the things I saved,” Vance said. “I don’t remember putting him in there.”
She didn’t respond with words. Just ran to Vance, throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Papa.”
He held her, his own eyes wet, and I saw Mia wipe her tears too.
Margot tested the swing, laughing, with the rabbit on her lap “This is the best room ever. The best house. The best family.”
“Scootch over,” Mia said, sitting beside her on the swing. “We can’t get any bigger or we won’t fit in here together.”
“But Mom says to take up space,” Margot said.
I froze. Mom. She’d called me Mom.
“Figuratively,” Mia said.
“What’s that mean?” Margot asked, resting her head on Mia’s shoulder, petting her bunny.
As Mia tried to explain, we left them alone, heading back downstairs to fix dinner for the first time in our new home.
Later, after dinner, we all gathered in the living room.
I tapped a spoon against my wine glass. “Margot, I have something for you.” I got up to get the scrapbook I’d put together for her, then placed it on her lap.
“I took all the photos Papa had and other mementos in there for you, just like Mia’s. ”
Margot’s eyes went wide. “I can’t wait.”
She unwrapped it carefully, grinning when she saw the pale pink cover with her name embossed in gold: Margot Prescott.
“Open it,” Mia urged, sitting beside her.
Margot opened to the first page and drew in a sharp breath.
Baby photos. Margot as an infant in Vance’s arms, both of them in Paris. Her first birthday. Toddler Margot with a gap-toothed grin. Christmas mornings. A trip to the beach. Sitting on Grandma Irene’s lap wearing overalls.
“Papa,” she breathed. “You saved all of these.”
“Every single one,” he said, his voice thick.
Then blank pages. Several of them. “That’s where we’ll put your paintings and drawings,” Vance said.
Margot traced her fingers over the empty spaces, nodding.
Then new pages. Recent months.
Margot on the beach with Mia, both of them laughing. Making cookies in the kitchen, flour on their noses. Family dinner at the table, all four of us. The first day of fourth grade. Margot sitting on the couch with Madison, a book open on her lap.
“These are from here,” Margot said. “From my new life.”
“Yep. And there are going to be so many more,” Mia said. “Mom takes photos of everything, as I’m sure you’ve picked up on by now.”
Margot turned to a page near the end and stopped.
It was a photo of all four of us from just last week. We’d taken a walk on the beach at sunset, and I’d asked a stranger to take our photo with my phone—Vance and me behind the girls, all of us wrapped together like a beautiful package. Below it, in beautiful calligraphy, just four words:
The beginning of us.
Margot turned the page.
The next spread was blank except for a small envelope taped to the center with my name written in Vance’s handwriting.
“This one’s for you,” Margot said, exchanging a conspiratorial glance with Mia. “It has your name on it.”
I took the card from her outstretched hand. It was bumpy, as if something besides a card was in it.
“Open it,” Vance said.
I did so, hands shaking. A beautiful piece of cream cardstock with a small hole at the top, where a pale pink ribbon held a diamond ring.
Vance slid off the couch, kneeling in front of me.
“Lila, I’ve already gotten the blessing from the girls. Will you marry me?”
Tears streamed down my face.
“Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, raising these girls, and building a beautiful life in this beautiful home?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He slipped the ring on my finger—perfect fit, of course—and kissed me.
The girls tackled us, all four of us ending up in a pile on the floor, laughing and crying and holding each other.
“We’re really a family now,” Margot said, her face pressed against my shoulder. “For real. Forever.”
“Forever,” I confirmed.
“Can I be in the wedding?” Mia asked.
“Obviously,” Vance said. “You’re both in the wedding.”
“Can we have it here? In the house?” Margot asked.
“I think that sounds lovely,” I said.
“Maybe at Christmas?” Margot asked.
“Or spring, when it’s sunny?” Mia suggested.
“We can decide later,” I said, staring at the sparkling diamond on my hand—a hand I’d never imagined would wear a wedding ring again. I’d thought love had passed me by. But it hadn’t. Vance had been there, waiting.
We snuggled on the couch, enjoying the gas fireplace and the jazz playing through the built-in speakers. No turntable tonight, but it sat prominently displayed in the cabinet for when we wanted to use it.
For an hour, we discussed ideas for the wedding—the girls perhaps more excited than Vance or me. We were older and knew it wasn’t the wedding ceremony or reception that mattered. It was all the days after that made a marriage and a family.
“I love you,” Vance said, kissing me lightly. “All of you. So much.”
“I love you too, Papa,” Mia said, flushing. “Is it okay if I call you that?”
“Were we supposed to ask permission?” Margot asked, her forehead creasing.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Vance said smoothly. “I would be honored if you call me Papa, my Mia.”
“And I love to hear you call me Mom,” I said to Margot.
“It’s all settled then,” Vance said.
“Yay for us,” Margot murmured under her breath.
Yay for us indeed.