“Mommy, don’t cry,” Zane says, crawling into my lap. “Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad, sweetie.” I pull my precious baby boy into a tight hug, nuzzling his neck. He doesn’t smell like a baby anymore, but he still smells like my baby. “I’m happy. I’m very happy.”
“We made you a cake too!” Zane pulls back and grins. “I put the sprinkles on.”
I laugh when the word comes out sounding like spinkles instead.
“You did?”
“It’s chocolate!” Zane exclaims.
“Zane said it was your favorite,” Keegan says.
I laugh because chocolate is Zane’s favorite, not mine. I actually hate chocolate cake, but since the only time we really have cake is for him, I always get chocolate. And on the occasion we do have cake for my birthday, we buy a half and half cake since Zane hates vanilla.
“Have you had lunch yet?” I ask Zane.
“Yep, Daddy said you have to go to bed.”
When I shoot Keegan a confused glance his way, he laughs. “Mother’s Day means breakfast in bed. You have to go to bed so we can bring you your meal.” He winks, and a fresh batch of tears falls at how much he thought this through. Sure, Sierra always makes sure to recognize Mother’s Day, but for some reason Keegan going out of his way to show me how much he appreciates me as Zane’s mother means a lot to me.
“Go, Mommy!” Zane shoves my shoulder. “Go to bed now.”
I laugh, but stand and head to my room. When I get there, I find a basket full of items: body wash, bubble bath, face masks, the works. There’s an envelope addressed to me, so I open it up, and inside is a gift certificate to the local spa for three massages. I can’t believe he did all this…
I put the basket on the nightstand, kick off my flip-flops, and crawl into bed, covering myself with my blanket. While I wait for the boys, and whatever they have cooked up, I open the card from Keegan. With every word I read, the tears sail down my face. About his parents’ love and their marriage. How he wants that for us one day. About all the time we’ve missed and how much he wants to get it all back. He promises to spend every day making up for the lost time. He goes on to tell me how amazing of a mother I am, and that even though he hasn’t been around for a long time, he can tell by just hanging out with Zane and me that we have a special relationship. The droplets of salty liquid fall onto the blue construction paper, smearing a couple of the words. I read his message twice over before I hear Zane’s voice.
“Mommy’s crying again,” Zane says, not liking my tears.
“Oh, no, sweetie,” I say, needing him to know I’m not sad. “They’re happy tears. I promise. I’m very happy.”
Zane crawls onto the bed next to me, and that’s when I notice Keegan is carrying a tray full of food over: pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream, a container of yogurt, a couple strips of bacon, and a cup of orange juice. He pulls the legs of the tray out and sets it on top of my lap.
“Wow, did you make all this?” I ask Zane, who nods in excitement. “Thank you.”
While I eat my food, sharing with Zane, Keegan sits on the other side of the bed, and we all talk. Zane tells me about his day. How he went in his daddy’s big truck—and he had to show him how to put the car seat in. They went to the stores and then came home and made everything. Zane’s favorite part is that while they were at the store, Keegan bought him a SpongeBob coloring book.
When he yawns, I tell him it’s time for his nap. He would’ve already taken one at school. He pouts, but when Keegan tells him he’ll read him a story, he jumps off the bed and runs to use the bathroom before getting into his bed.
I finish eating while Keegan reads him a story. I’m walking the now empty tray back to the kitchen when Keegan steps into the hall, shutting the door behind him. I set the tray on the counter, about to do the dishes, when Keegan’s arms wrap around me from behind.
“I’ll get those in a few minutes,” he says, turning me around to face him. “I didn’t have a chance to properly kiss you hello.” His mouth descends on mine, and his tongue pushes through my parted lips. We kiss for several seconds before Keegan pulls back. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He waggles his eyebrows, and I laugh.
“Want to sneak a piece of cake?” he asks, and I scrunch my nose. I consider lying to Keegan, telling him I would love to, but instead I go for the truth. The only way we can get to know each other is by being honest.