She climbs off of me and moves to lay on her side of the bed, but I pull her to me. She sighs in contentment, her cheek resting on my pec.
Every night we end up this way, no matter how hectic our days are, this is our time. As much as I love our children, this is just for us, so it’s our sanctuary.
In the morning, I have several things planned for our fifth-year anniversary starting with getting the kids ready for daycare and school while she sleeps in. Reston is going with Meredith’s parents for the weekend since we haven’t put him in daycare yet as Meredith is still on maternity leave. Afterward, between Aubree and their mom, they will pick up the other three this afternoon.
I am taking Meredith to Midland for the weekend. I am taking her to an illustrious baking competition that I secretly entered her in. She has been talking about it for as long as I’ve known her. Aubree boxed up several of Meredith’s baked goods and shipped them to the entry address. I got the call last week that she won the preliminaries and the semi-finals are Friday with the finals Saturday. I hope she doesn’t freak out and hate it.
“Where are we going?” she asks as I help her into my truck. “I left my mom with a ton of frozen breast milk, but I am going to need to pump soon,” she says.
“We’ll be at the hotel in an hour. Don’t worry,” I say getting in the truck.
“Okay. Now what’s going on?” she asks putting on her seatbelt.
“The Midland Bake off,” I say,
“What?” she all but yells.
“Aubree and I entered you. You are in the semi-finals.”
“Oh my God, Dallas. That’s crazy. I am not at all prepared for something of this caliber.”
“You’ll do great,” I promise. “I have faith in you,” I tell her.
“Thank you. But I am nervous.”
“I will be with you every step of the way, baby.”
“Alright then. Let’s do this,” she says excitedly. I start the truck and pull out of the driveway. She talks a mile a minute the entire way. When we arrive, we have just under two hours before the competition starts. We settle in and head down to the event space and check in.
The first desert is Danish. Shit, I might be biased, but my wife makes the best Blueberry Danish on the planet. I should know, I’ve bought every single one she’s made in the last six and a half years. I had to work out that much harder, but those damn things were worth it. They are light and airy with just the right amount of blueberry filling. She’s got this in the bag.
I watch her work from the seating area. She works quickly and efficiently. She is beautiful. All that blonde hair and sunshine it’s no wonder I fell head over heels for her when I should have known better, but I wouldn’t change all that waiting for any damn thing.
In the end, she comes in second, but the recognition is just as much as first place. The monetary prize is what’s different. We spend the rest of the night making love before heading home in the morning.
Every day with her is better than the last and I thank God every day for bringing me to her. They say that patience is a virtue, good thing I had that in spades.
Epilogue
Meredith
Twenty Years Later
All five of my babies are grown, with only our youngest still single, but I am sure that will change soon. She’s just started working at Cal’s rig and her boss, Ethan, made his intentions quite clear to Dallas and I. Speaking of my husband, he is retiring from the Regret Sheriff’s office today. Next up for us, is traveling the world. I’ve always wanted to see Europe, so we are starting in Wales. Other than our honeymoon, I’ve not been out of South Dakota and I’ve never been out of the country. Neither has Dallas.
At fifty-seven, he still makes love to me every chance he gets. I plan on doing nothing but lying in bed with him for the next week before our trip begins. We’ve earned this break, but I’m going to miss the kids, though they are doing their own things.
Our flight to Wales was uneventful, but once we get there, I am in awe of how beautiful it is. We walk everywhere, eat strange foods, and make love in the moonlight. By the time we reach Italy, about a month later, we are both exhausted. Late one night my phone rings. I flip the light on the nightstand on. I see that our youngest, Maureen, is calling. I smile. She is my little fighter. I was in labor for thirty-six hours with her. We’ve always been the closest.