No Tomorrow

“I’m sorry, Blue, but yeah, it kinda crossed my mind. And now you’re acting all weird.”

“I didn’t go buy drugs. I’m totally clean. And I’m not acting weird, I’m fucking nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?”

He shoves his hand into his front pocket and comes out with a tiny royal blue velvet box. “This.”

I stare at it in his hand as my heartbeats accelerate to warp speed.

“I don’t know how to do this. I know I’m supposed to plan a big mind-blowing fucking moment. And I wanted to, babe. I really did. But the place I really wanted to do it is too far away. So now I just feel like I fucked this up and it’s going to be another disappointment from me that you’re gonna have to live with.”

Oh my God. Is he asking me to….

He snaps open the box. “A long time ago I promised to give you all the tomorrows I could. I know I’m not supposed to make any life decisions, but fuck that shit, I’m making this one because nothing is going to change it. I know we can’t get married until I’m cool and prove I won’t slip up. But until then I want you to have this, so you know I’m dead serious. So you know you’re the one, you’re it, you’re my home.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I fucked this all up and it’s not mind-blowing.”

It is mind-blowing.

It’s raw and unplanned and painfully honest and just so him.

I stare at the big sparkly stone surrounded by little tiny sparkly stones in a band of white gold.

It’s beautiful. Every woman’s dream ring.

And it comes with the promise of him—my dream man— and all the tomorrows.

With him.

I catapult myself into him. I throw my arms around him and climb him like a tree, wrapping my legs around him and smothering him with kisses.

“I love you so much,” I whisper between kisses. “And my mind is totally blown.”

He cradles the back of my head in his hand and kisses me, smiling against my lips.

The sexiest, most awesome, special smile in the world.

Chapter Forty-Two

Lyric and I are enjoying a lazy, rainy Sunday morning together on the couch. I’m immersed in a new book with Archie on my lap, and she’s clicking away on her laptop. Blue flew in late last night to stay with us for a few days before he has to meet up with the band for their next show. He looked utterly exhausted when we picked him up the airport, and he was sucking down Red Bull like water in an attempt to keep himself awake to talk to Lyric and me.

By the time we got home from the airport he was suffering from one of his horrible headaches. He crashed on the bed, but tossed and turned from all the adrenaline and caffeine in his system, so I gave him one of the Valiums I have for the occasional neck spasms I get. That seemed to calm him, and he finally fell asleep. I snuggled up to him all night while he slept, stroking his face and his hair, whispering how much I love him. As he slept, a tiny worry nagged at me about the medicine. I tried to remember what Reece and I had talked about and I wondered if I did the wrong thing by giving him anything at all. Wouldn’t Blue know to tell me he couldn’t take it, like he did in the past, if he thought he shouldn’t? I slowly rubbed his tense back and shoulders, praying that no ill comes of my well-intentioned action. He’s sleeping soundly and that’s what he needs. I don’t even care if he sleeps the entire time he’s visiting as long as he gets to rest and feels loved.

“I want to show you something,” Lyric says, opening her laptop lid. “Look at him.” She turns the laptop sideways to show me an adoption page from a nearby pet rescue. The page is filled with photos of an adorable little brown and white fuzzy dog with one floppy ear and one straight ear, and big sad eyes. “Look at his little face, Mom. He looks like Acorn only younger and kinda sad. His profile said he was thrown out of a car. How could someone do that?” Her voice cracks and her bottom lip quivers with emotion. “He must feel so unwanted. He’s too lonely now. Someone has to love him.”

She is so much her father sometimes that it’s scary.

I put down my e-reader and look closer at the photos. I read the detailed bio about the adorable dog that I know will probably be frolicking in our backyard this time tomorrow.

I think I want the lonely little dog just as much as my daughter does. Maybe even more.