Chapter 11 #4
She shakes her head just right as a butterfly flies above Maddie, the little girl trying to catch it.
“So fleeting,” Elisabeth murmurs, waving her drink slightly.
“Innocence. Once it’s gone, it’s…gone.” She looks back at me, one side of her mouth rising slightly.
“You try to keep that innocence, Ella, even if it is only a speck of dust. The world could use a bit of that magic. Tristan could use a bit of that magic.” She repeats it to herself as the butterfly flies away, unaware of the parallel it has gifted us.
With a royal tilt of her head that Grace Kelly herself could not have done better, Beth approaches Maddie, tapping her delicately on the shoulder and signing in perfect, unrushed ASL, “Love, what are you reading lately?” A sudden rush of tears knocks at the door of my lungs.
A mother. She is a mother. I had one once.
Every cell of my soul can still remember the warmth, the indubitable fact that I once belonged to someone who saw me, who knew me, who would have fought any battle, any war, and put herself between me and every bullet. Once, I had a mother.
A flash pierces this moment, suspended in time, stopping the clock.
One day, I will be one. And I will try my best. I will make mistakes, surely, but I will try my hardest so these little people who never asked anyone to be born know they belong.
That they are loved. That they are held in prayers, wishes, hearts.
That they impact others like stardust. I will give them roots and watch them fly away, and I will always be there, the human embodiment of home, to catch them when they fall or simply witness the marvelous blooming of their being.
“Ella.” Tristan’s voice shakes me from this trance, and I accept his lemonade, drinking in his outfit and how striking–no, mouthwatering–his fit is.
He could have been a firefighter just fine.
Our fingers brush. It is little, but a rocket ship launches inside me, and he swallows, his Adam’s apple betraying him too.
The spark, the tension, stretches through the silence, where leaves dance in the soft wind just as Nate carries the cake to the round table in the garden.
What a lovely backyard. Just enough to feel free and small enough to feel safe.
The neighbors are not too close, but we can still see the borders of their homes next to Nate’s, with trees surrounding his garden, tall and full, adding to the privacy of this intimate family setting.
A few red and pink balloons. A banner with Happy Birthday painted on it, looking like an adorable father-daughter art project.
My favorite part is the table, covered with a pink tablecloth, navy-and-red plates, tiny plastic firefighter helmets scattered around for decoration, pearls and glitter, and napkins cut into princess-dress shapes.
Not what you would expect from a multimillionaire’s birthday party. And still, it is perfect.
“You’re all right?” Tristan asks. I keep myself from confiding that yes, I am all right, because I think I saw our life unfold in my head and we will be okay.
“All good,” I mouth. “Who was it?” I ask about his phone call.
“You really want me to spoil the birthday?”
“Hey.” I give a small shake of my head, “Tell me.”
“Brenton and Deputy Garron want to capture Cole at my mother’s ball. They want…” He pauses, his jaw clenching. “They want you to be bait and lure him somewhere they could catch him without attracting too much attention.”
“Why there?”
“Because he’s in hiding right now, at a relative’s place, and they’re not sure about launching a potential raid without knowing what is waiting for them inside. The ball could lure him in, make him think he could get to you again and remain unscathed by it, hidden behind a mask.”
“I…” Speechless, I blink, my whole body remembering his hands on me, his voice channeling through every cell, warning me that danger is coming soon. “I can’t, Tristan. I’m sorry. I want to help, but…”
“No.” He stops me. “I wanted to tell you that I refused. I’m only telling you because I watched my father keep my mother out of the loop for decades, and it made her miserable.
I want you to know my life. Everything you want to know, I’ll tell you.
I will be an open book. But this…” He exhales.
“I’m not sorry, sweetheart, because there is not a world in which I’m allowing him to get to you. ”
“Then how will you pull this off?”
“I’m working on it.” He runs the edge of his index finger under his chin.
“I’m sorry we had to discuss this in the middle of Maddie’s birthday.
” His hand cups my face, and I blush at the display of affection.
It will take some getting used to. Feeling loved and adored in public. “How did it go with my mother?”
“Better than I thought,” I sign. “I was afraid she would hate me like Mara.”
“No one could hate you, Ella.” We look at each other, and I want to rise on my tiptoes and steal a kiss, my eyes roaming over his lips, his whole outfit adding to his hotness and making my decision unusually bold.
“At home,” he says in a low voice, reading my mind.
I look down, caught red-handed in the cookie jar.
“Do you want a piece of cake? Nate’s not going to let us leave until we eat one,” he adds, a light chuckle easing us from the darkness back to the light as we approach the three of them around the table.
All afternoon there’s laughter, chatter, sign language, games, cards, and tiaras, and I feel like I am stepping into a room full of sun without knowing where to look.
All I know is that, for what feels like five minutes of my life, I am blinded by happiness.