Love, the Second Time Around Ch. 02

Once the vibrator had subsided, she stood and looked around nervously. Nichole stepped into the space between our table and the next one over. I turned my chair to face her. The other conversations around us stopped, and some people at nearby tables paused what they were doing when they realised something was about to happen.

"Okay, so Amberle is a smart girl and she knows something is up, so we'll get right to it." Her voice was clear, but Nichole's hands were shaking. She turned to me and wrapped her fingers around mine, which were trembling as well. "Amberle . . . We've known each other for almost two years now . . . I never thought I'd ever be with a woman, and certainly not one as beautiful as you . . . and after striking out the last couple of times I tried the whole marriage thing, I never thought I'd fall in love with anyone again. But when we're together, I feel like . . . I feel invincible again."

She reached into her pocket and drew out the ring box. Even though I knew it was coming, the tears were real. Nichole knelt in front of me.

"Amberle Perry, I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

I took her hands in mine. Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against hers. We both took a deep breath. I pulled back and winked, which seemed to catch her off guard.

Before I gave her my public reply, I turned to her son. Reaching out, I beckoned for him to come over to us.

"Stephen, you know I love your mom," I said gently, taking his hands in ours. "Would you give us your blessing to be married? Will you have me as your stepmom?"

He smiled, struggling to find something to say, but I think it meant a lot to be included in our special moment.

"Yes," he said softly. "I would like that."

Nichole brushed the tears out of her eyes.

"And would you have me as your stepmom?" my bride-to-be asked, turning to someone over my shoulder.

"Yes! Yes, you know I will!" Of course it was my daughter sneaking in for Nichole's proposal.

More tears streaked down my cheeks, making the waterproof mascara work double time. Maureen rushed over to us and intertwined her hands with ours.

"Nichole Galloway, yes, I would be honored to marry you and be your wife."

I gave Maureen and Stephen's hands a squeeze then let them go. I stood, pulling Nichole to her feet along with me. I framed her perfect face in my hands and kissed her good and deep.

Losing myself to the tenderness of her lips, I vaguely heard cheering from her family and a restaurant full of strangers.

Nichole pulled back and took the ring from the box and slipped it on my finger. And this time, I got to keep it.

"Did I ever tell you that I love you?" I whispered.

"Tell me again," she gave me that little smile that makes my heart melt.

"I love you."

She leaned in to give me one more kiss.

Then we turned to accept all the hugs from her family . . . our family.

Once the commotion settled down, Nathan made a space so Maureen could take the seat next to me.

"When did you get in?" I asked, only-half surprised to see her here.

"A little while ago," she reached for my wine glass since her drink hadn't arrived yet. "I dropped my stuff off with Paulie and went downtown to do some shopping."

"Don't you have classes today?"

"And miss my mother getting engaged?" she snorted playfully. "I'm only staying overnight. I just wanted to be here when Nichole popped the question."

"So you knew? And you didn't tell me?"

"Of course I knew. But I was sworn to secrecy. Nichole needs me to plot cute, romantic stuff like this behind your back."

"Are you coming in over spring break?"

"Are you taking me to Hamilton?"

"I can't afford tickets to Hamilton." It was my turn to snort. Although not technically true, I am psychologically incapable of paying hundreds and hundreds of dollars for tickets to a Broadway show, no matter how good it may be.

"I can," Nichole interrupted. "And I want to spoil my stepdaughter, so we're going to see Hamilton. . . and bring your guy with you next time."

"Your guy? Is he cute?" Rhett asked in a loud voice from across the table.

"Don't even think about it, Queenie," Maureen fit in so well with Nichole's family because she can give as well as she can take when it comes to busting chops. "He's half your age . . . and all mine!"

"I'll go easy on him," Nichole's "brother" replied with a smirk, before turning back to the conversation he was having with Felix and John.

The food arrived shortly afterward, along with several bottles of wine which were sent our way by the manager and some of the anonymous patrons in the restaurant.

The mood was joyous through the rest of the evening. We were surrounded by family and food. My bride-to-be was radiant, even without me zapping her with the vibrator at irregular intervals when she wasn't paying attention.

I sent my sister and brother a picture text of my new engagement ring.

Brin's reply was, Did Nic rob a bank to pay for that thing?

Ander Facetimed in right away and we gave him a play-by-play reenactment of our engagement. We called Emily in California a few minutes later to fill her in and for me to show off my new ring.

"You make her so happy," Carole came over to give me a warm hug and welcome to the family. Nichole's mom was always a quiet woman. "Thank you for getting her smile back. Make her stop working so much."

She had told me those same words back when we first met. "I'm trying!"

We shared a private little laugh, both of us knowing that getting Nichole to cut back on anything was an uphill battle.

Maureen swiped my phone off the table. "Picture time! Get over with your bride, Mommy."

We were several drinks each into the booze, and we were feeling kind of frisky anyway, so Nichole and I posed for the camera at my daughter's direction. "Show me the ring . . . now kiss . . . smile with teeth . . . put your hands together . . . face each other . . ."

After browsing through the pictures, we picked a handful and sent them out.

"It's not official until it's on Facebook," Nichole tapped away at her phone, changing her relationship status to "engaged". I reposted her pictures and changed my relationship status, too.

Almost immediately, our phones figuratively blew up. I eventually gave up trying to respond to all the messages.

Our night went on until we finally used Stephen's bedtime as an excuse to leave. I got my bride, my daughter and my soon-to-be stepson into a cab for the ride home.

Paulie greeted us each with a warm hug. He wasn't supposed to still be working that late, but there he was, waiting for us like we were family. I guess he is.

As Nichole put Stephen to bed, Maureen and I sat in the living room, cuddled up on the couch. She's twenty-one now, and about to graduate from the pre-med program, but she's still my little girl. From the time right after her mom died, she made up her mind that she wanted to go to medical school at Duke, and there was no doubt in my mind that she was going to sail through their admissions process.

My daughter was always built like me: short and curvy, especially in the backside. When she was a senior in high school, she had a late growth spurt, and shot up a couple of inches and developed bigger boobs, apparently a gift from her dad's side. She's now half a head taller than me, with beautiful sandy-blond hair.

She is my pride and joy, and one of the smartest people you'll ever meet. She shares her smile with McKayla, along with her gregarious, outgoing personality.

I hadn't had much chance to think about it throughout the night, but as I held my daughter's hands, I realised I really was moving on. It hit me suddenly, like a slap to the face.

"You're thinking about her, aren't you?" Maureen whispered, as if reading my thoughts. I couldn't form the words to reply. She lay her head on my shoulder. "Mom would have liked Nichole. She always wanted you to be happy."

"I know," I choked up. "I just . . ."

Our fingers intertwined.

"I like her, too," my daughter said softly. "I think you're perfect for each other."

"I thought I was ready for this," I kissed the top of my daughter's head. "I thought I'd propose to her over the summer while we're on vacation. But tonight . . . I know your mom is happy for me . . . for us. I know she didn't want me to spend my life alone. But . . ."

My voice broke. Maureen wrapped her arms around me.

"It's not like you had some nasty divorce or you ended up hating each other," Maureen squeezed my hand. "She was taken from us, if not from the cancer, it would have been the Huntington's Disease. I know you were in love. I knew it then, and as I've watched all my friends's parents get divorced, I know you and Mom were meant to be together. Forever. You're not getting over her, Mommy. You're life is going on. Mom wanted that. She wanted you to do this years ago. She wanted you to make me some brothers and sisters."

Maureen sat up and reached for her purse. She pulled out a Hallmark envelope with my name on it. I recognized McKayla's flowing handwriting immediately. "She left this for you. Open it when you're ready."

I took the envelope and stared at it for long moments. I ran my fingers over its contours, knowing that my wife had written this just for me.

Before she died, McKayla recorded a series of video messages for Maureen and gave them to in a binder full of CDs to be watched at certain times or for life events. She had also left some cards for each of us with very explicit instructions about when they were to be opened. I had a couple extra stashed away which Maureen did not know about, and apparently Maureen had some for me as well.

A part of me wanted to open it right then, but I also did not want to break down in front of either my daughter or my girlfriend . . . er, fiancée . . . so I set it on the coffee table for later.

"Nichole is an amazing person. You complement each other, and not just because she got some shitty cards dealt to her, too." Our daughter was always wise beyond her years. She's not an old soul in a young person's body, but she has a level of natural empathy and perception you would not expect from someone her age. And she has her mother's wry sense of humour and comedic timing. "And she's taking me to see Hamilton."

We laughed and I pulled her close to me. I miss her when she's away at school. My house is empty now, which is why I've spent so much time in New York or traveling with Nichole. It felt good to hold her in my arms again, especially on such a special day for me.

"Thank you for coming up tonight," I said, giving my daughter another hug. "I'm glad you were here for us. Even if you keep sneaking these things by me."

"You don't always believe this when I say it, but Mom is smiling right now." There was a slight shiver in her voice. "She is looking down from Heaven, knowing that you're surrounded by people who love you. And she knows that one day you will be together again."

We were both trying not to cry.

"I know, sweetheart," I whispered, finally giving up. We held on to one another as we cried it out. Looking back, I wasn't upset or sad. My tears were joyous, both at the memory of the love which was taken from me, and the one which awaited me in the future.

The two of us sat on the couch for a long time, both of us lost to our thoughts. Finally, Maureen got up, and gave me the loving embrace of a daughter whose heart once broke right along with mine all those years ago. Then she retreated back into the room we had set up for her after taking over that other apartment.

Nichole was waiting for me with a hug of her own.

She didn't say anything.

She didn't have to.

We changed into our night clothes and got ready for bed. Without prompting or asking, Nichole slipped the engagement ring she had just given me off my finger, and replaced it with my old wedding band. I don't wear it often anymore, but it is always close to me. Just as the ring Michael had given her was always nearby.

She flipped off the lights, took my hand and led me to bed.

Taking me in her arms, Nichole pulled me close. Her body was so warm. So soft.

Her kisses were tender. Her touch gentle. She brushed the hair out of my face. I looked into her eyes in the soft light that shone in from behind the curtains. Nichole wiped the tears from my cheeks.

I remember the weekend we met. We were at the beach on a girls trip. It was around her birthday. As I found out later, she got engaged the first time at a birthday party after she got back from studying abroad in China.

One of the first things I recognized about her was that we share the same sad smile that we put on to face the world. It's the smile we hide behind because the love of our life is gone, and it hurts too much to explain it to everyone.

I knew it. She saw it in me as well.

Both of us believe that if our spouses hadn't been taken from us—hers in a car accident, mine by cancer—we would be living happily ever after with them.

We also know that life goes on. No matter how good or how bad a day is, the sun sets. And the next day, the sun comes up again.

I'd like to think I've gone on with my life. I saw our daughter through high school and on to college. My little brother and sister are both married. Ander has children of his own. Brin says she and her husband don't want kids.

My aunt and uncle, who took us in after Mom and Dad died, both retired and live on a golf course in Florida. I'm almost forty-seven now. I wear reading glasses and it seems like I have a new grey hair and back pain every day. Whether I wanted it or not, we've all grown up.

I curled up on her side and rested my head on her shoulder. She ran her hand soothingly over me.

A little while later, when the inevitable fit of crying came over me, Nichole cradled me in her arms as I fell apart. Her comforting touch held me together.

She didn't give me any well-intentioned platitudes or try and get me to talk about my feelings. Through the sobs that wracked my body, her presence was enough to let me know how much she loved me, baggage and all.

I fell into a fitful sleep in her arms.

When I awoke, drooling on her pillow, our legs and arms were intertwined. Her breath felt warm on my skin. She stirred enough to pull me closer. I leaned into her arms, feeling nothing but safety.

**************

The smell of coffee and bacon filled the apartment.

Nichole was still curled up next to me.

Stephen knew better than to try and fry bacon by himself. That meant Maureen was up making breakfast.

I slipped out from under covers and put on a robe to ward off the morning chill.

Sure enough, my daughter was in the kitchen. She had several skillets going on the cooktop range. Stephen was next to her, following her directions and hanging on her every word. I stopped in the doorway, just watching them before they noticed me.

Maureen is a good kid, and I'm not saying that because I'm a little biased. She is warm-hearted and kind. Convivial and friendly. She gets that from her mom (and I don't mean me). When she first met Nichole and Stephen, my daughter was nothing short of an angel, and she still is.

Stephen enjoys her company. Maureen is quick to praise him and engage in his interests. She absorbed McKayla's curiosity about other people and the world as well as her outgoing personality. She is a genuinely good person who looks for the best in everyone. And when she is talking, you are the most important person in her world right then.

The two of them were making eggs, bacon, home fries and pancakes on the stove. Some fruit was cut up in bowls on the counter. Maureen gave Stephen tasks appropriate for a 10 year old, and kept an eye on everything.

After a few moments, my daughter looked over at me and winked. I went back into our bedroom and found Nichole burrowed under the covers. I leaned over her and brushed the hair out of her face. She smiled contentedly before lazily opening her eyes.

"The kids are making breakfast." I gave her a quick, loving kiss.

"I guess I have to get up," she sighed dreamily. "We could have breakfast in bed."

"You'll just complain about the crumbs," I took her hand and gave her a slight tug.

She reluctantly pushed the covers away and climbed out of the warm, plush bed. I followed her into the bathroom.

We did our business and brushed our teeth. I took her in my arms in the morning light.

"I love you, Nichole," I whispered in her ear.

"I love having you inside me," she bit my earlobe gently, sending a shiver down my spine.

"You still have it in?"

"You didn't give me permission to take it out," Nichole pulled back and winked, before giving me a playful smack across the backside.

We went out to the main living room where our kids were setting the table.

When Michael lived in the apartment by himself, he had knocked out several walls, making one big room of the foyer, kitchen, living room and the dining area. At one time, the building had been a warehouse of some kind. The ceilings were high with brick interior and exterior walls. Some of the pipes and beams were exposed in the ceiling, and the hardwood floors had been refinished several time.

Maureen and Stephen set out our breakfast on the sturdy Amish picnic-style table. There were benches on each side and comfortable chairs at the head.

"Breakfast looks delicious," Nichole complimented the chefs. Maureen just beamed. Stephen told his mom about everything they had made.

I got out my phone to take some pictures of the four of us having one of our many breakfasts together, and zap Nichole a couple of times with the bluetooth vibrator. She shivered and smiled mischievously at me.

"What time is your flight?" I didn't want my daughter to leave, but I also knew she was itching to get back to school.

"One-thirty," she replied. "Benny is going to take me to the airport at eleven."

I did the math backwards in my head to make sure she had enough time to make her flight. Of course, she probably only had a few things stuffed in a backpack; she had clothes and everything she needed in her room in New York. Plus, a few years back, we paid for TSA PreCheck and Global Entry for everyone, so she would only have to go through the short security line.

The four of us spent the rest of the morning eating and laughing and talking before Nichole left to take Stephen to school late.

She got back just in time to give Maureen a hug goodbye as my daughter was on her way out the door.

Then Nichole pinned me up against the wall, threw my clothes to the floor and we made love in our living room.

Then again in our bedroom.

And again in the shower.

**************

"So are we going to have a small, intimate wedding or an event?" I snuggled up to Nichole in our bed. Stephen was at his dad's for the week. We were naked under the warm comforter.

"Well, I thought we'd either have a destination wedding for family and close friends," she reached for her iPad off the nightstand and opened up a note-taking app. Nichole is a very organized person. Not as anal retentive as our good friend Melanie Westcott, but she is a list person. Me? I jot things down when I think about it, but otherwise just skate through life leaving the heavy lifting to other people. "Or we're going to be stuck inviting about three hundred people if we have it here in New York."

"We could have it at the beach house," I suggested, cuddling in her warm touch.

"What kind of wedding do you want?" she asked me.

"I got married on the beach last time," the pleasant memory made me smile. Her skin was so warm against mine. "When I was a little girl, I always wanted the big church wedding. . . . but you've already done that."