All the Pretty Poses (Pretty 2)

“My father?”

With sad eyes, Tanny turns to us and nods. “Yes. Henslow Spencer, your father. The father of my son. That was when that I learned he could be as ruthless as he was charming. He gave me two choices that day in the hospital. I could either never see my baby again or I could see him Henslow’s way.

“He’d filed papers declaring me an unfit mother and he’d put the full weight of the Spencer name behind it, which was considerable even back then. He had been granted full custody. He told me that if I ever wanted to see my baby again, that I must never tell anyone he was mine. He’d gotten me a job with Malcolm and Mary where I would work as a housekeeper so that I could see my son when he came to visit them. Henslow assured me that he would bring him here often. And he did. It was either that or never see my child again. And I knew I couldn’t live with that. So I went along with him and, until today, I’ve never told another living soul that I’m the mother of his firstborn.”

Reese has stopped breathing behind me. I can feel a light tremble in the arms that hold me and I know his world has just been rocked…again. Only this time with gentleness and love.

“I wanted you to know because I don’t want you to go forward in your life not knowing that there has always been someone in this world who would give up everything she has for you. Who did give up everything she had for you.”

Reese’s arms fall slowly away from me and I feel his body heat recede as he moves around me toward Tanny. As I watch the scene unfold with fresh eyes, with aware eyes, I see for first time the shape of Tanny’s eyes echoed in Reese’s. I see the square set of her shoulders in the strong ones of her son. And I see the special light shining in her face for what it is—love. Maternal love. It’s been there all along, watching quietly. Waiting. Steadfast and true, like a mother’s love.

As Reese gently folds his strength around the frail form of his mother, I realize that our world has come full circle. That, for all the pain and suffering, for all the lies and deception, that everything is as it should be. That the journey doesn’t dictate the end. We do. Our choices determine the shape and path of our life.

Reese’s strength and goodness has led him here. Finally. Just like his mother’s. And just like mine. We all defied the odds and did what needed doing for those we loved and, in the end, it all worked out. In the end, love won.

It always does.

And it always will.

I needed rescuing. Even when I thought I didn’t, I still did. We all do in some way or another. And Reese was my Superman. He was my hero before he even knew it. And maybe I was his. Maybe I got to rescue him right back. Maybe we’ll rescue each other every day of forever. And if we do, that’s all right by me.

EPILOGUE - Reese

Like everyone else, I’m breathless as I watch my wife spin, her long, graceful body twirling like she’s on a string. She’s mesmerizing to behold. She was born to dance. And I was born to watch her.

Nearly a year ago, I gave her the news of my latest investment.

“Would you stop cleaning and look at me?” I asked in mock exasperation. “Babies don’t have to have a completely sterile environment, you know.”

She stopped scrubbing the rails of the crib and looked up at me, that ever-present twinkle in her eye, her hair mussed from her vigorous cleaning. “Why? You got something else you’d like me to do with my hands?” She held up her gloved hands and wiggled her fingers, her tongue tucked into one corner of her curved lips. For a second I actually forgot what it was that I was going to tell her.

I let my eyes run over her beautiful face, over the extended curve of her pregnant belly and I was reminded of the gift, the gift I’d gotten her for the birth of our baby. The gift of her last unfulfilled dream.

“Maybe I should just wait and tell you after they induce you tomorrow,” I teased.

She tore off one glove and slapped me with it. “Don’t you dare!”

She hopped up and came to plop down in my lap, like she’d done a million times as we sat in the rocker in the baby’s room, imagining what it would be like to rock him to sleep there.

“Well, since you’re gonna get all ugly about it…” I winked up at her and she grabbed my face and gave me a rough peck.

“Tell me or risk the consequences.”

“Fine,” I said with an exaggerated sigh. “I never told you what I planned to do with the money I made from the sale of my businesses.”

“You mean other than shower me with things that I could never have a need of?”

“Yes, besides that.”

“Then no, you didn’t.”

“Well, I had a friend who was open to the idea of an investor. You might’ve heard of him. Chance Altman.” I watched Kennedy’s eyes go wide and her mouth drop open into a perfectly round O. “I thought you might know the name. Well, he was pretty keen on the idea of having a partner, as well as having a troupe based in Chicago. I was also able to give him the name of an extremely talented dancer that I happen to know. There was even an opening at the Steadman Theater that some charming and resourceful man was able to procure for the shows. Three nights a week, starting this summer.”

After staring at me for at least sixty full seconds, Kennedy leaned her forehead against mine and I watched the tears—her “happy as hell” tears as she calls them—drip from the tip of her nose onto the front of my shirt.

“I didn’t need anything else in life to be happy, to be complete, Reese.”

“But I needed to give you this. I want to see you dance, beautiful. I want to see you dance until your dream isn’t to dance anymore.”

She lifted her head and gazed into my eyes with her big, teary green ones. “You are my dream. He is my dream,” she said, touching her belly with one palm.

“But you’re mine. And I know you’ve always wanted this. And I wanted you to have it.”

That was followed by some pretty rigorous lovemaking, especially for a pregnant lady. It turned out to be a good idea, though, because she didn’t have to be induced after that. Malcolm Harrison Spencer came along just fine on his own.

I can remember with absolute clarity the way it felt to hold him in my arms—my child, a part of me and a part of Kennedy, together in the most perfect baby I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think many moments in life could compete with the moment that I stood across from her and watched her lips move when she said “I do” in the front of the church, but holding our son for the first time was right up there with it.

Every day since then has been just about as ideal as I could imagine life being. We’ve fed him together, bathed him together, watched him take his first steps and say his first words together. I wouldn’t change a single second of it.

It’s been ten months to the day since I witnessed the miracle of our son’s birth. Now I get to witness another incredible event—the first day his mother got to dance the dance of her dreams, on a stage for the whole world to see.

The smile she’s wearing as she twirls and bends takes my breath away. And the satisfaction I get from knowing that I helped put it there…priceless.

I’m living a life I never thought I’d have, happier than I ever thought I could be. My son is at home with my mother. My wife is on stage where she belongs. And my empire is being expanded for our children. I couldn’t ask for one more thing out of life.

But if I could, I might ask for a little girl.

Just one more little girl.

THE END