It feels big.
That was the only word I have for it. His confession and kisses were big too, but this feels like a moment.
Us. In front of everyone.
After feeling like he purposely avoided telling people about us last time, this is the healing moment I need.
And then, like the DJ has some sort of sadistic sixth sense, the music screeches into ”The Chicken Dance.” Elijah startles and blinks like he’s been slapped.
“’The Chicken Dance?’” he groans. “Sorry, I’m not sure I can do this one.”
Chuckling, I do my best to trap him on the dance floor by grabbing his hand. “Tell that to Kaci and Jackson.”
Before he can escape, two tiny human hurricanes barrel toward us. “Aunt Koren!!” Bella shouts, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
“Let’s gooo!” says Jackson’s nephew Rigsby, holding Bella’s hand and grabbing one of Elijah’s as everyone starts to form a circle. We’re trapped. I should feel silly, especially with a questionable dress strap. But when I look over and see Elijahwiggling like an over-caffeinated bird, and Rigsby wiggling next to him like he’d been training for this his whole life, I sort of melt.
Elijah is ridiculous.
He should have a trigger warning with those dance moves.
He’s making exaggerated wing flaps, sticking his tongue like I don’t know what.
And the kids?
Absolutelylosingit.
Rigsby laughs hard, and Bella giggles with delight.
Flapping my fake wings, I try to keep up, but I can’t stop laughing or looking at Elijah.
Really looking at him.
Something inside me thaws.
It’s the way he kneels down to Bella’s eye level so they can flap their wings together. The bigger she smiles at him, the wider is his.
I’m falling in love with him.
No, scratch that. I already was. Always have been.
Right here, during ”The Chicken Dance.” Of all places. With two sweaty, giggling kids hanging off us, and my dress strap hanging on for dear life. But it feels like real life. More real than any romantic dinner or moonlit walk. Him being playful and effortlessly wonderful with kids who aren’t even his.
And a random thought pops into my head:He is going to be an amazing dad someday.
Not just the shows-up-for-the-soccer game kind of dad. The real kind. The hands-on, show-you-how-to-flap-your-chicken-wings kind.
And man, I bite my bottom lip as I take it all in. I can’t believe I almost missed this. I want to be the one doing all of this with him.
Raising tiny humans.
Making joy out of spontaneous moments.
Elijah catches me staring. “You okay there, chicky? You get your wings stuck?” he teases, holding out his hand.
I take it without a peep, using all my strength to steady my heart. “I’m more than okay.”
He spins me around once. Then we jump right back in with the kids, flapping and laughing so hard my cheeks feel as if they might break.
