Reese has been here for a couple of weeks now. Asher and his wife, Marley, arrived earlier this morning with their daughter, Lyla Jo, and Reid and Cassidy showed up shortly afterwards. Karmen has been a bit nervous to meet my sister and my sisters-in-law, but Cass, Marley, and Reese put her right at ease, as I knew they would. Karmen told me she didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, and as an adult, never made time for them, focusing all her time on work, but the women clicked with her, as if they had known each other for years.
A few moments later, the rest of the stampede arrives. Ryker walks into the house carrying a car seat. My niece and nephew follow closely right behind him, arguing over an iPad. Justin and Selena file in next, their three rambunctious boys adding to the chaos.
Dad glances around the room. “Any word from Denver?”
Reese nods. “He sent a text to our group chat earlier. Their flight got delayed, but they’re coming.”
My mother blinks. “Since when do you all have a groupchat?”
Reese shrugs. “Since last week.”
“I’ve been trying to start a family chat for years, but they all said they hate group chats, so I have to text everyone individually,” Mom says, exasperated.
“You can start one now, Mom,” Reese says with a smile. “I can assure you they will be on board with it.”
My mom’s eyes fill with unshed tears.
Yes, we all hate a group chat. I can’t stand it when they all start talking at once, and my phone starts going off like crazy, but we all agree that we need to stay connected and communicate better. Especially with our parents getting older, our mother’s diagnosis, and our starting the family business, it’s essential that we stay in constant contact now.
Except when they start talking about dumb shit. Then I’m muting their asses.
Later that evening, we all gathered around the table to eat. After the blessing, Dad clears his throat. “Before we begin, your mother and I wanted to talk to you again about—”
Justin raises his hand. “If this is about Mom’s diagnosis, we already talked about it, and we’re all here to help, Dad. Whatever she needs.”
Mom nods, the picture of courage and strength. “I know. And I appreciate it. But I don’t want you all treating me like glass.”
Asher points to Dad. “Tell him that. He’d bubble wrap you if he could.”
Mom smiles at him. “He’s adjusting. We all are. But I’m going to be fine. I just need to take care of myself by resting more, managing my stress, and eating better.”
MS is not a death sentence. I know that. The doctor saidthat people can live long, full lives with it. Most people live normal lives because treatments are better now, and symptoms can be managed with medication. She’s going to be okay. But the truth is, the moment she told us, something in me fractured a little because while she will have good days, there will be bad days too. There will be flare-ups and remissions. There will be long stretches during which she may not feel like herself. We’ll have to watch her. All of us. Even if she hates it. But we’ll figure it out together, as a family. We always do.
A tear slips down her cheek as she scans the table, locking her gaze with every one of us. “But this, this is all I need. Being with all of you is healing me in ways medication never could.”
Three months later…
“What time is our flight?” Karmen asks as she reviews the files on her laptop for the next case.
A powerful man whose seventeen-year-old daughter has gone missing while on spring break in Europe. The police have been useless in searching for her, so he came to us. We’ve had several leads, but nothing concrete, so Karmen and I are flying out tonight to retrace her steps and hopefully track her down. She could have been sold into sex trafficking. It’s highly likely, but given this man’s background and connections, it could very well be a case of revenge.
Twisting my watch to check the time, I say, “We need to leave in half an hour.” I move to stand behind her chair, reaching down to cup her breasts. “Plenty of time to play.”
“You know we’ll need more time than that,” she laughs, and the sound hits me right in the chest.
She laughs a lot more these days, and it gives me immense satisfaction knowing it’s because of me. Our relationship has only grown stronger over the last couple of months, and the need to make her mine permanently is a constant echo in my mind.
Sliding one hand down further, I lean in and whisper, “Stand up, love.”
She obeys, sliding the chair back from the desk. I reach for her left hand as she gets to her feet, kneeling before her.
“What are you doing?” she asks, confused.
I pull the ring box from my pocket. The same one I tried to give her years ago.
She gasps, silver eyes widening.
“There will never be another woman for me. Never be another soul on this earth that gives me what I need. Only you. You are everything to me, baby, and I want to be everything to you. In our home. In our bedroom. At work. In this life and the next.” I slowly open the box as a single tear slides down her cheek, and she gets to her knees before me.
