It’s just past 4 o’clock and Dean will be home any minute. I swivel around on the sofa to face the fireplace and scratch Chessie’s head. Today was a big day, and I can’t wait to tell Dean my exciting news: my interview at Fort Kent Elementary went as well as I thought, and they’ve offered me the job of lead art teacher.
Chessie barks at both the truck in the driveway and the opening of the front door, and I race to the doorway into Dean’s arms. He drops a grocery bag full of takeout Chinese on the floor, as he greets Chessie.
“Hi, sunshine,” Dean greets me with a peck on the cheek. His face is ice cold from being outside.
“Hi, my love,” I say to his chest, hugging him as he tries to take his coat off. I release him and he hangs the coat on the hall tree. He’s wearing my favorite flannel shirt, the one with the red checkered pattern. He scoops me up into a real hug, and I run my hand through the back of his hair. It’s getting really shaggy these days.
“There’s some tea for you.” I motion to the kitchen, even though I’ve probably already drank half of it.
“How was your day?” He asks me, stepping on my heels on purpose.
“Perfect,” I say confidently. “Guess what.”
“You emptied the dishwasher finally?” He laughs.
“Um, no,” I say. “Well, I did do that, but that’s not what I want you to guess.” We walk into the living room, and Dean pulls me onto the couch, onto his lap.
“What?” He asks, waiting for me to tell him instead of guessing.
“I got the job.” I beam.
“At the school?”
“Yes, at the school!”
“Oh, Madeline, I’m so happy for you.” Dean kisses me with a smile. “You worked so hard for it.” He’s right—I went back to school and got my Master’s of Fine Arts in illustration, and got my teaching certificate.
“I start in two weeks, after winter break.”
“Congratulations, my love,” Dean whispers, leaning back onto the sofa, his head resting on my shoulder. “The record sounds great.” He pauses, listening.
About a year ago, I reached out to Andy’s record label and asked if they were interested in releasing his second album. And of course—they were. I had to get Mark involved of course. Markremastered the recordings, and they were released last June, just in time for summer. It’s nominated at this year’s music awards for best folk album, and I couldn’t be happier. I got an early copy of the vinyl and it’s played in our house well into the winter season.
“Mark did a really good job with it,” I agree, Dean nuzzling my neck. Chessie paces around the table. “Let’s take her out.” I suggest.
We get up, and call Chessie to the back door. We let her out, and she tumbles into the snow like a snow leopard. Our backyard is a mess of dog, deer and bear footprints. Chessie seemingly can’t tell the difference. Dean steps out to throw her a tennis ball, which she happily accepts.
“Come out here with me,” Dean says, shivering.
“It’s freezing!” I say. “No way.”
“That’s why I need you out here with me. To keep me warm,” Dean smiles. “Come on. Just for a few minutes.” Reluctantly, I toe on my boots and step outside. I’m not kidding when I say it’s snowing outside—it’s wet and slushy and falling in my hair. “Look. There’s a cardinal.”
I spot it too, right in on the fence in the furthest corner of the yard.
“You know what a cardinal means, right?”
“Someone is safe and happy, even if they are far away.” I say. “Or something, right?”
“It also means good luck. And good things are on the way.”
“Good things are already here.” I smile, referring to my job, Chessie, our house, and of course him. I look back out in the yard, the cardinal still hopping along the fence.
“Madeline,” Dean whispers. “There are so many good things coming your way, you don’t know half of it.”
“Hm?” I turn towards him, and he’s holding a small, blue velvet box that shimmers in the snow.
“What—what is this?” I ask as he hands me the box, I turn it over in my hands, studying the soft fabric.
