“You still wanted your mom. You loved her.”
My wife is nothing if not persistent. She also found Ella’s final resting place and we’ll go one day…I think. Maybe I’ll find out more about her then, and maybe after that, she’ll earn a place on my shelf.
You might want to direct some of your forgiveness at her.
I’m working on it, John. I’m working on it.
Enough, Grey.
I close the drawer and retrieve the first present I’m going to give Ana this morning. I hope she likes it. Placing the gift on my desk, I check the time. It’s 8:30. Andrea should be at her desk. My wife has decided to stay home, and so will I. Picking up the phone, I press call.
“Good morning, Mr. Grey.”
“Good morning, Andrea. Cancel all my meetings today. I’m taking the day off.”
There’s a slight pause and a small gasp before she replies, “Yes, sir.”
“And don’t call me. At all.”
“Er…sure. I mean, yes.”
I laugh. “Thank you. Tell Ros, too. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow.”
She laughs. “Will do, Mr. Grey. Enjoy your day.” That’s two of us in a good mood.
Ana is dozing when I bring in her tray—the sheet loosely wrapped around her body, so I’m treated to the spectacular view that is my wife. Her hair is tousled from our earlier lovemaking and spreads across the pillows in a lush sprawl. She has one arm raised over her head, one breast and one shapely leg partly exposed. The morning light caresses her body, as if she’s been captured by a Grand Master himself. A Titian, or a Velázquez maybe.
Aphrodite.
My goddess.
She’s lost weight since Ted’s birth, and I know she wants to lose more, but to me, she’s as lovely as ever.
The rattle of our coffee cups rouses her, and she rewards me with a breathtaking smile. “Breakfast in bed? You really are spoiling me.”
I place the tray on the bed and take my place beside her.
“A feast!” She claps her hand. “I’m famished!” She tucks into her pancakes and bacon.
“You’ll have to thank Mrs. Jones for this. I can’t take any credit.”
“I will,” she mumbles, mouth full.
We eat in a companionable silence, enjoying the nearness of each other.
It’s a curious feeling.
This utter contentment.
I’ve only ever felt it with Ana.
And I allow myself a moment to reflect on my extraordinary good fortune.
I have a loving, smart, gorgeous wife.
A beautiful son, who is at present being entertained by Hope.
My business is in good hands. All the companies we’ve bought over the past few years are highly profitable. The solar tablet is a huge success, and we’re creating new technology around it, specifically for the developing world.
Sitting here, with my wife, eating pancakes, is about as good as it gets.
Once I finish, I put my plate down. “I have something for you, which I can take credit for.” From beside the bed, I hold up the gift-wrapped package.
“Oh!” Ana grabs a napkin and wipes her hands while I place her empty plate on the tray and push it out of the way.
“Here.”
She gives me a quizzical look as I hand her the broad, heavy, oblong package.
“It’s our paper anniversary. That’s your only clue.”
She grins and starts carefully unwrapping the paper, trying not to tear it. Inside is a large leather binder. Ana bites her lip as she unlatches the strap holding it shut and lifts the cover. She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. Beneath the cover is a black-and-white still of Ana and Ted: she’s smiling down at him, and he’s gazing up at her in adoration. The light is perfect, illuminating both of them in a warm, loving glow. I took it a couple of weeks ago, specifically for this series of ledger-sized prints, and it reminds me of the Virgin in the small shrine in St. James’s cathedral in Seattle. “This is lovely,” Ana breathes, her voice ringing with awe.
I’m proud of these stills. My intention is to hang them in place of some of the Madonnas in the foyer. In the next one, she’s holding Ted and looking at me, her eyes alight with amusement, and something a little darker…something for me. I love this picture.
There are four prints with Ana and Teddy—and then the last one.