Chapter 26
chapter twenty-six
Reid
When I step into the small building a few blocks away from Main Street, I’m nervous as hell. Maybe more nervous than I was when I went to the doctor’s office to get my official diagnosis for Kennedy’s, and that day was one of the more difficult ones in my entire life.
The receptionist is nice, a girl maybe close to Busy’s age, and she gets me checked in and hands me a clipboard to fill out with some basic information. I wait until the doctor comes out to greet me and calls me back into her office.
She motions for me to take a seat, which I do, and then she sits in the chair across from me and grabs a notebook to place on her lap.
“Hi, Reid.”
“Hi, Dr. Green.”
“How’s your day going so far?”
I shrug. “Pretty good, I guess.”
Dr. Green nods. “I’m glad to hear that. Why don’t you tell me a bit about why you’ve decided to start therapy?”
“I filled out a questionnaire with that, I thought.”
“You did, and I read it. But I always like to hear it in my patient’s words.”
I take a deep breath and let it out long and slow. “Right.”
My eyes flit around the room, taking in the minimal décor and—I laugh—the gray walls.
“What’s funny?” she asks, her lips tilting up at the sides and her eyes scanning the room as well.
“Just…the wall color,” I tell her. “My girlfriend said you’d probably have gray walls. She calls it millennial gray.”
Dr. Green laughs. “I’ve heard that before, about the color, not my walls specifically.” She makes a quick note on her notebook. “So your girlfriend knows you’re doing therapy?”
“She does. It was her idea, actually.”
“And why is that?”
“Probably because it was so helpful for her. She went when she found out she was pregnant a few years ago, said she wanted to work through some things to be a better mom.”
The doctor smiles. “That was brave of her. There are many things parents think to do to get ready for a child, but it takes a really smart person to realize they have some inside work they need to do as well.”
“She’s a smart woman.”
Smart enough that I listened when she said I needed to consider talking to someone.
“So, then, tell me why you’re here.”
I sigh, looking down at my hands, roughened from the work I’ve been doing for most of my adult life.
“I have a disease that’s going to eventually make it really hard for me to take care of myself, and my doctor recommended seeing someone to talk about things as my body begins to decline.” I pause. “Said it might help to process it all, instead of just carrying it alone.”
Dr. Green bobs her head, makes another note or two on her pad.
“And has something happened that makes you think your body is beginning to decline?”
A tilt my head from side to side. “Yes and no. I dropped a sander I was using a few weeks ago. I work with wood and do a lot of work with my hands. It was an easy mistake, a simple slip…”
When I trail off, she smiles gently. “But it didn’t feel that way to you.”
I shake my head, my chest tight as I admit something I don’t want to. “No. It didn’t feel that way to me.”
We talk for the full hour, a miracle considering I only promised Busy I’d come to introduce myself. Thankfully, we don’t talk just about the incident with the sander. We touch on my grandfather and what it was like to watch him go through this disease, on my dad passing away and some of the struggles I’ve had with my mom.
And we talk about Busy. A lot. About how incredible she is. Her and Junie. How much I love her. How thankful I am that she came into my life and fought for the us I didn’t realize we could be, fought for us when I didn’t even know how to.
When our hour is up, I don’t necessarily feel like bouncing out of here the way some people talk about feeling after a therapy session, but the pressure in my chest feels like it’s been released some. A surprise, to be sure, enough that I book a second appointment for two weeks from today without even dreading it.
“I’m proud of you,” Busy says as we walk down Main Street holding hands, her fingers twisted with mine.
I shrug. “I didn’t really do anything. I just…talked.”
“Exactly,” she says, pulling me to a stop in front of Happily Ever After. “Talking is a hard thing to do. Especially for someone who is so used to keeping all his feelings tucked away inside this sexy chest.”
She pokes me with one finger, and I laugh.
“Besides, you said you’d do something hard for you if I did something hard for me, and I did,” she tells me, tilting her head to the side, in the direction of the gallery next door.
I glance to the side, the information taking a beat to settle until…my eyebrows rise. “Did you send them your portfolio?”
Her face twists, and she nods. “It was horrible and I’m never doing it again, not ever ever. But…I did it.”
I yank her against me and wrap my arms around her, careful not to spill the coffee she’s holding in one hand.
“I’m so proud of you,” I say, pressing a kiss against the crown of her head. “Seriously. So proud. No matter what they say.”
“They’re going to say no,” she mumbles into my chest. Then she pulls her head back and looks up to meet my eyes, even though the full weight of her still leans against me. “Or if they do say yes, it’ll just be because I’m a Mitchell.”
“Hey,” I say, my brow furrowing. “That is definitely not at all true.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, so the second part might be a little bit true, but that doesn’t mean you’re not incredibly talented.”
Busy laughs and tucks herself against me again before letting out a long sigh.
“If nothing comes from it, it’s okay,” she tells me. “I just want to know I tried.”
I nod and kiss her head again. “Exactly.”
We continue strolling down the block toward one end of Main Street, admiring all the Halloween décor in the front windows of each of the shops before crossing the street and heading in the opposite direction. Junie is on a playdate with Leo this morning, so we have a blissful few hours just the two of us and nowhere in particular that we need to go. We’ve just been drinking coffee and wandering around downtown after my stupid therapy appointment ended.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t stupid. It was actually a lot better than I assumed it would be, and I have Busy to thank for that, for pushing me for the past few weeks, ever since that incident with the sander. It’s something she’s been bringing up regularly ever since we first started dating back at the end of summer, saying how important it would be for me to process all the emotional and physical challenges that are coming.
“But I don’t want to just constantly worry about the future,” I told her one day. “If I’m always talking about what’s going wrong, it’s all I’ll think about.”
Busy pinned me with a look. “But isn’t it all you think about anyway?” When I didn’t respond, she gave me a pinched smile. “At least if you tried going to therapy, you’d feel less like you were carrying it all alone. And maybe you’d have someone giving you a better perspective on things as they change.”
She doesn’t realize that I have her for that. That she’s the one who makes me feel like I’m not doing it all on alone.
We’ve only been together for a few months, but the way having her and Junie around has completely reshaped how I feel about each and every day is just…mind-blowing. My shoulders don’t feel so weighted down with the worries I carry. I didn’t know I could experience this much joy on a regular basis, assumed it was only for obnoxiously positive or rich people.
But apparently, it’s also for me.
“Have you decided what you want to be for Halloween yet?” I ask her, my eyes snagging on a sign for the annual Halloween Spooktacular.
“I was thinking I’d go as a cat.”
I chuckle. “Where did that come from?”
She shrugs. “I love cats, and it’s the easiest costume in the world. Wear all black, put on some makeup for the nose and whiskers, buy ears and a tail. It’ll take me five minutes.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“No, I’m smart. The last thing I want to do is spend weeks planning a Halloween costume. I don’t have the time for that.”
When I don’t say anything, she stops and stares at me.
“You’re one of those people, aren’t you? How long have you known what you were going to be for Halloween?”
I rub my tongue along the ridges of my teeth. “Since last year.”
At that, Busy tosses her head back and laughs. “Oh my god, I love it so much. What are you going to be?”
“Nick and I are going as Harry and Marv from Home Alone .”
“That is incredibly niche.”
I chuckle. “It is, but it’s going to be amazing.” I tug out my phone and show her photos of the costume inspiration.
“It really is amazing,” she says, giggling as she scrolls through the images I have saved. “How did I not know you’re into this stuff?”
Shrugging, I tuck my phone away then take her hand. “We still have plenty of stuff to learn about each other.”
At that, her smile softens. “Yeah, we do.” Her fingers twist in mine as we continue walking down the street. “I can’t wait.”
… one year later …
I take a long, deep breath when we finally reach the lookout, soaking in the view of the lake below, the sun bright in the cloudless sky.
It’s a perfect day for a quick hike up to Crestline Outlook, the autumn leaves at their most luscious and just on the verge of dropping, the air crisp and cool but not so cold that we need gloves or a heavy coat. It takes about an hour each way, just enough that it’s a workout, but not so much that Junie can’t come with or it overworks my body.
“I always love views like this of the entire town,” Busy says, crouching down to pet Sydney, her eyes fixed on the lake where it stretches out into the distance. “And there are so many of them. I feel like I’ve only done half of the hikes that show most of Cedar Point, you know?”
I nod, the nerves racing through me keeping me from saying anything.
“Do you think this is a good spot to sit down for lunch? Or should we keep going? I feel like there might be one more spot about ten minutes that way.”
I shake my head then pull off my backpack and begin pulling out supplies. “This one’s good.”
We take a few minutes to lay out the blanket and unpack the food—sandwiches and fruit and sparkling water, plus a juice box for Junie—before we’re stretching out and enjoying lunch with a view.
“This was a great idea,” Busy says, taking a bite of her sandwich. “I don’t know why I never think of these things.”
Junie tugs open her bag of chips and pops one in her mouth, crunching loudly before she looks at me.
“When are you going to ask to be my daddy?”
I freeze, my eyes flicking to Busy, whose face has flushed bright red as she chuckles.
“Junie, why would you ask something like that?” she says, glancing at me and shaking her head. “She doesn’t know what she’s asking.”
“No, Mr. Reid’s gonna be my daddy,” she insists, and I feel a pang for the days when she used to call me Misery. “He told me.”
Busy laughs awkwardly and looks my way. “I’m sorry, I don’t…”
She trails off, though, when she finds me holding a small wooden box.
“I originally planned to ask you after lunch,” I say, clearing my throat, realizing I need to go a off script a bit. “But when you ask a three-year-old if it’s okay if you marry her mommy, I think you take the risk that the surprise might get thrown slightly off course.”
Her hands come up to her mouth, covering it as she watches me. I shift my position so I’m no longer sitting on my ass but instead on both of my knees—both because I will worship her for the rest of my life, if she’ll let me.
“Busy Mitchell.”
Her hands drop to her chest, and her eyes connect with mine.
“Before you, I had no clue what love really looked like. The kind of love I knew was shallow in its depth, and selfish in its execution. I’ve been afraid to open myself up to anything else, believing that protecting my heart was the only way to keep from getting wounded again.”
Her eyes grow watery, and I resist the urge to reach out and pull her in to my chest.
“But, like I said…that was before you. Before I knew the truth. That love can reach depths I’ve never searched, be selfless and sacrificing even in the most difficult moments. The way I feel about you is more than I ever believed love could be, and when I think about ‘forever’, all I feel is joy and hope,” my voice chokes as I pause, “even in the face of what’s to come, because I know I’ll get to spend each of my days at your side.”
A single tear tracks down Busy’s face, and she bats it away, but not before Junie notices.
“Don’t cry, mommy,” she says, getting up and walking toward her mother, hugging her tightly.
Busy embraces her daughter, but her eyes never leave mine.
“When I think about the future, there’s nobody else on this earth I could ever imagine standing next to me, holding my hand. On good days, and bad. I want to hold your hand for the rest of my life,” I continue. “And Junie’s, too. And I hope you know that when I ask you to marry me, I’m asking you both. Because I’m not just asking you to be with me forever, I’m asking you to let me become a part of your family. To be your husband, to be Junie’s dad.”
At that, Junie smiles.
I open the box, showing her the silver band I bought for her, with the row of inlaid diamonds.
“Busy Mitchell, will you marry me?”
She turns to Junie. “What do you think, Junie Bee? Should we say yes?”
Junie nods. “I already said yes. He asked me yesterday.”
At that, Busy bursts into laughter and scoots toward me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, I’ll hold your hand for the rest of my life.”
She presses her lips to mine, kissing me once then twice before pulling back so I can slide the ring onto her finger. She examines it for a long minute. “It’s beautiful.”
“And I have something for Junie, too, if that’s okay?” I ask, tugging the other box out of my pocket.
Junie races over from where she’d begun eating chips again, her mouth opening when she sees the small bracelet, a silver chain with three bands looped together.
“Does this mean I’m getting married, too?” she asks, sticking her arm out and waiting for me to put the bracelet on her wrist.
Busy chuckles. “You’re not getting married,” she says, tugging Junie into her lap as I adjust the clasp. “But we are going to be a family. So that means Mr. Reid is making a commitment to both of us.”
“What’s a commetent?”
She laughs again. “A commitment is a promise.” Her eyes meet mine. “And he’s promising that he’s going to love us forever.”
Junie bounces up and down. “And he’ll be my daddy?”
I nod. “If you want me to be.”
She giggles and flings her arms around me. “Can I call you daddy now ?”
This kid. My heart swells with love for her. It’s been the most incredible thing, watching her grow over the past year, how she’s changed and learned and turned into this… child when it feels like she was just a baby when I first met her.
Busy shrugs, her eyes connecting with mine. “I’m okay with it if you are.”
“I can’t wait to tell my friends I have a daddy,” she says, climbing out of my lap and walking back over to where she left her bag of chips.
“It’s pretty cool,” Busy calls over to Junie, but her eyes are on me.
“It is pretty cool.”
She shifts over so she’s sitting between my legs, her back resting against my chest, and then glances down at her ring again. “It’s beautiful, Reid.”
“I’m glad you like it,” I say, kissing the side of her head. Then I lower my voice. “And just so you know… you can call me daddy, too, if you want.”
Busy barks out a laugh and elbows me gently in the ribs.
“Or…husband,” I say, wrapping my arms around her. “Maybe hubby.”
“Or best friend.”
“Partner in crime.”
“Soulmate.”
I hum, my lips tilting up. “I like that one.” I press a kiss to the top of her head with a smile. “I think I like that one the best.”
Busy squeezes my hand with hers. “Me, too.”