Book 2: Epilogue

 Epilogue

Epilogue — “It Was Always Us”

Stories like this rarely announce themselves at the beginning. They don’t arrive with certainty or intention. They begin quietly—almost unnoticed—woven into a moment that could have passed without consequence. For Mark and Kimmy, it began that way. A reunion. A terrace. A pause long enough for possibility to enter. And then, a simple question that would ripple forward into everything that followed.

“One more drink?”

At the time, neither of them could have known what that moment would become. Mark, steady, thoughtful, and grounded in the life he had already built, approached the connection with quiet curiosity. Kimmy, bright, expressive, and emotionally open, felt something deeper almost instantly—something that invited her forward rather than holding her back. Where Mark measured, Kimmy trusted. Where he observed, she engaged. And in that contrast, something began—not sudden, not reckless, but intentional.

Their story unfolded not through dramatic turns, but through accumulation—moments layered carefully, meaning revealed slowly. When Mark arrived in North Carolina and Kimmy ran into his arms with a breathless, “You came,” it was more than reunion. It was confirmation that what they felt had endured distance, time, and uncertainty.

From there, their shared world expanded. A Danube river cruise became more than travel—it became reflection. Golden-hour light over passing castles mirrored the quiet realization growing between them: that this connection was not temporary. In Vienna, laughter over powdered sugar at a café carried the ease of something already comfortable. At a fountain, a simple coin toss became a shared intention—unspoken, but understood.

Each experience added weight to something neither of them rushed to define, yet both steadily leaned into.

---

By the time they stood together at Keeneland during the Breeders’ Cup—dressed for the day, moving easily among strangers who saw them as a couple before they had fully said it aloud—the truth had already settled. Not in a single declaration, but in a series of quiet recognitions.

They were no longer navigating something uncertain.

They were becoming an us.

That understanding deepened during their first Christmas together in North Carolina. Traditions began—not imposed, but discovered. Kimmy claiming joyful authority over the Christmas tree. Mark smiling as he let her lead, knowing that her energy was part of what made their connection feel alive. The ornaments, the laughter, the shared glances—each detail became part of a growing foundation.

And then, along a quiet path by a creek—a place that would come to define them—Kimmy whispered words that shifted everything:

“I’m pregnant.”

With that, their story moved beyond possibility. It entered permanence.

---

Book Two did not question whether Mark and Kimmy loved each other. That truth had already been established. Instead, it explored what it meant to live that love—to carry it through the rhythms of daily life, through responsibility, through change.

Their world became fuller, richer, more grounded. Brad, their son, was not simply a new character—he was the living embodiment of what they had built. Through him, love took form in laughter, curiosity, and growth. Whether it was watching him insist he had “made the bed” on a Tuesday or seeing him sprint across a playground to win his race, Brad represented both joy and purpose.

Around them, Allan and Sally anchored the story in friendship and community. Their presence—on porches, at fire pits, in shared conversations—added dimension, reminding us that love does not exist in isolation. It is supported, reflected, and sometimes gently challenged by those who stand beside it.

---

Daily life became the proving ground for Mark and Kimmy’s connection. Morning Wawa coffee runs, Tuesday and Thursday rituals born from the fear of nearly losing each other, quiet evenings spent talking or simply being near—these were not background details. They were the story.

They showed that love is not sustained by grand gestures alone.

It is sustained by attention. By intention. By choosing, again and again, to remain present.

---

The story’s first true external test came not through conflict, but through subtle disruption. In London, the introduction of Kierra created a shift—one not rooted in betrayal, but in imbalance. Her presence raised a question, lightly spoken but deeply felt:

“You never really know, do you?”

But Mark and Kimmy did know.

They recognized the shift immediately—not as a threat to be fought, but as a boundary to be honored. Mark’s discomfort, Kimmy’s instinct, and their shared decision to leave London early were not acts of avoidance. They were acts of clarity.

They would not step into any opportunity that did not fully recognize them as one.

---

What followed was not recovery—it was reaffirmation. Back home, their life resumed, but with deeper understanding. Porch conversations returned. Brad’s laughter filled the house. Tuesday and Thursday remained sacred. And in those familiar rhythms, something became clear:

They were not just in love.

They were aligned.

---

The final chapter brought their journey full circle. A quiet morning. A small shift in routine. A simple box placed carefully in Kimmy’s hands. What unfolded was not a dramatic reveal, but something far more meaningful—a memory book, capturing the moments that had shaped them.

From the first sonogram to shared travels, from moments of fear to celebrations of joy, each page told part of their story. Not just what had happened, but what it had meant.

And when they returned to the path—the place where everything had once changed—they stood not as two people discovering something new, but as two people who had already built something lasting.

Mark’s words came simply:

“I didn’t get the job.”

And then, after the pause that mattered:

“They offered it to US.”

---

It was never about the job.

It was about the choice.

---

Looking Ahead — Book Three

If the first two books have shown us anything, it is that Mark and Kimmy’s story is not defined by uncertainty, but by intention. Their love has been tested—not by dramatic betrayal, but by the quiet realities of life—and has proven itself steady, resilient, and deeply rooted.

Book Three will not ask whether they will remain together. That answer is already known.

Instead, it will explore what happens when their world expands beyond the private spaces that have defined them. With the opportunity from Viking, Mark and Kimmy step into a broader stage—one where their partnership is no longer just lived, but seen. Travel, storytelling, and shared experiences will introduce new dynamics, new relationships, and new pressures that challenge not their bond, but how they carry it forward.

Mark will be asked to step further into visibility, balancing his natural steadiness with the demands of a more public role. Kimmy, whose warmth and emotional intuition have always guided their connection, will find her voice expanding in ways that reach beyond their immediate world. Together, they will navigate what it means to bring “US” into a space that often pulls individuals apart.

And through it all, Brad will continue to grow—not just as their son, but as a witness to the kind of love that is chosen, protected, and lived out daily.

Book Three will not be about holding on.

It will be about expanding without losing what matters—about carrying “US” into a world that is bigger, louder, and less predictable, and discovering that what they have built is strong enough to meet it.

Because in the end, no matter where the story goes next…

It has always been, and will always be,

US. 💛

 

Book 2: Chapter 16

 Chapter 16:  TV Romance

A Turn Of Events

Kimmy’s eyes opened slowly, the bright morning sunlight slipping through the blinds in thin golden lines that stretched across the floor and up the side of the bed. She squinted, adjusting to the light, and turned her head just enough to see Mark still sleeping soundly beside her. His breathing was steady, peaceful, the kind of deep rest that didn’t come easily after a long stretch of thinking and decision-making. A soft smile formed as the thought crossed her mind—I’ll get the coffee today…let him sleep.

She slipped out of bed with exaggerated care, moving quietly, almost playfully, as if she were on some covert mission. Jeans, Panthers hoodie, a quick glance in the mirror—good enough. At the doorway she paused, turning back to watch him for just a moment longer. There was something about seeing him like that—unguarded, still—that filled her chest in a way she could never quite put into words. She smiled to herself and eased the door open.

Brad’s room was next. She padded in softly and stood over the bed, her expression softening even further. He lay tangled in his white clown blanket, one arm draped over it protectively while Mickey and Peter stood propped nearby like loyal guardians. Kimmy reached down and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead, then quietly stepped back, leaving the little world of his dreams undisturbed.

As she closed and locked the front door behind her, she paused again, glancing back through the house. The quiet, the stillness, the life they had built—it all settled over her at once.

We have the best life.

The thought stayed with her all the way to the parking lot.

---

Allan spotted her immediately, his eyebrows lifting in surprise as she stepped out of the car. “Hey Kimmy,” he called, walking toward her with a grin, “what’s wrong with my boy Mark?”

Kimmy laughed softly, adjusting the hoodie as she met him halfway. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said, shaking her head. “I think after dinner last night—going over all the Viking options—he was just drained. Out cold.”

Allan nodded, falling into step beside her as they headed inside. “So…did you guys make any decisions? Heard anything back yet?”

Kimmy slowed just inside the doorway, balancing the thought for a moment before answering. “We made decisions about what we’d be open to…and what we wouldn’t be,” she said carefully. “But no, we haven’t heard from them yet. And honestly? We’re not in a hurry. No pressure. We’re really happy with our life right now.”

Allan gave her a knowing look and pointed toward the counter. “Papers with puzzles over there. Coffee station right here.”

“Perfect,” Kimmy said with a grin.

---

She slipped back into the house quietly, balancing the coffees and folded paper, closing the door with a soft click behind her. For a moment she just stood there, listening.

Nothing.

Complete silence.

Her eyes lit up.

The idea came all at once.

Moving quickly now, she set the coffee down on the counter and hurried down the hall. In one fluid motion she shed the hoodie and jeans, leaving them in a small heap before slipping back under the covers in just her Minnie underwear and one of Mark’s shirts. She nestled in close beside him, placing her hand gently over his heart just as she always did.

He stirred almost instantly.

“Morning, baby…” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “You sleep okay?”

Kimmy bit back a grin, keeping her tone soft and even. “I did…you seemed out like a light.”

Mark pushed himself up onto one elbow, his hand finding her hair, smoothing it back with that familiar, absent-minded affection. “I’m sorry I slept in,” he said quietly. “A girl shouldn’t have to wait for her puzzle and coffee.”

He leaned down, kissing the top of her head as he began to slide out of bed.

That’s when the giggle slipped out.

Mark paused mid-motion and turned back, one eyebrow lifting. “And just what is so funny, missy?”

Kimmy sat up cross-legged, trying—and failing—to keep a straight face. “Maybe I did something…”

The giggles spilled over into full laughter now, uncontrollable, her shoulders shaking as she fell back onto the pillow, covering her mouth.

Mark just watched her for a second, his grin spreading slowly. “You gonna let me in on the joke?”

She shook her head, still laughing, unable to get the words out.

Mark chuckled under his breath, shaking his head as he pulled on his jeans and hoodie. “Women…” he muttered, heading down the hall.

He made it as far as the kitchen before he stopped.

“I smell coffee…”

The realization hit him all at once.

He turned on his heel and walked back down the hall a little faster this time, stepping into the bedroom to find Kimmy curled into the pillow, still smiling.

“When did you—what if I hadn’t seen them and headed out to Wawa?”

Kimmy burst into another round of laughter. “THAT would have been funny, right?”

Mark couldn’t help it—he laughed too, sitting down beside her and pulling her into his arms. “We have lanes and roles,” he said softly. “You stay in your lane, girl—that’s my job.” Then, gentler, “But…I do appreciate you saving me the trip. Love you, baby.”

---

The next morning felt more like normal.

Mark pulled up and found Allan waiting by his truck again, coffee in hand. “Hey, dude,” Allan called, “that was weird seeing Kimmy here yesterday. You good?”

Mark smiled as they walked inside. “I was out,” he said simply. “She was sweet to make the run. She and Sally are off to pickleball after drop-off today, so I’m taking my time.”

---

When Mark got home, the house was quiet again. He set the coffee down, carefully unfolded the paper to the puzzle page—just so—then grabbed his laptop and stepped out onto the porch.

The creek moved steadily below, its soft rhythm filling the space as he opened the computer.

At the top of his inbox:

“Your order is out for shipment today.”

A grin spread across his face. He clicked, read, then saved it neatly into the folder labeled “US.”

Then he kept scrolling.

Deleting.

Clearing.

Routine.

Until—

“Viking TV: Offer Sheet.”

Mark stopped.

He took a breath, then clicked.

He read it once. Slowly.

Then again.

More carefully.

When he finished, he didn’t react right away. He simply closed the laptop, set it on the table, and walked to the railing, coffee in hand. He stared out over the creek, letting the information settle, organizing thoughts that didn’t quite want to line up yet.

---

The front door opened sooner than expected.

Mark glanced at his watch.

That’s odd…

“Baby?” he called as he stepped inside. “Why are you home so—”

He stopped.

Sally stood beside the couch.

Kimmy sat with her leg propped up, a pillow tucked beneath it, offering a small, reassuring smile that didn’t quite hide the discomfort.

Mark’s chest tightened instantly.

“Honey…”

He crossed the room in seconds, dropping to one knee beside her. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing,” Kimmy said quickly, reaching for his hand. “I turned my ankle. Sally helped me—it’s okay.”

Sally’s expression said otherwise. “She turned it pretty good,” she added. “I told her we should get it looked at.”

Mark looked back at Kimmy, concern etched across his face. “Baby…shouldn’t we go to the ER?”

Kimmy reached out and took his hand.  “I had many a sprained injury playing volleyball in high school and college.  I know the difference between a sprain and something serious.  This isn’t that bad.  But could you get me some ice to keep the swelling down?”

---

Sally stayed with Kimmy until Mark had her situated with the ice bag and then she headed to the door.  Mark walked her out onto the porch.

“Thanks so much Sal, I don’t know what we’d do without you and Allan.”

“No worries,” she said and gave Mark a quick hug.  “Keep an eye on her, I know you will.  Give us a call or text this evening to let us know how she’s doing.  And if we can do anything, call….please.”

Mark went back inside and Kimmy was smiling.  “I’m good honey, really.  Thanks for the ice.  I’ll be hobbling around later this afternoon.”

Mark frowned, “Oh no you won’t, you are confined to being prone right where you are.”

Kimmy sat up and said, “Help me out of this sweaty top baby.”  Mark gingerly helped pull it over Kimmy’s head.  Kimmy smiled mischievously, “Your turn.”

Mark looked at her with a blank look.  “Seriously,” Kimmy said with a little pout.

“What?” Mark said, clueless.

Kimmy giggled, “You are so SO easily distracted.  What’s today baby?”

Mark looked, then his eyes widened, “OH…it’s Tuesday.  But honey, you’re ankle…”

Kimmy crossed her arms, “Exactly, it’s my ankle….everything else works fine.  Now stop stalling honey.” Kimmy extended her arms up and curled her fingers motioning him down onto the sofa.

Heard It Through The Grapevine

Mark eased Kimmy’s arm into the sleeve of her hoodie, careful not to jostle her balance, then reached for a pair of shorts from the chair beside them. “I won’t need those for just being home, baby,” she said with a soft smile, her tone light even as she shifted slightly to get comfortable. Mark sat down beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched, but there was a different kind of weight in the space between them now.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, “but…well, kind of distracted.”

Kimmy’s smile lingered for a beat. “More important than bringing me my puzzle? This better be special.”

The look on Mark’s face erased the playfulness instantly. Her expression softened, her eyes searching his. “Oh…honey, what is it?”

Mark reached for his phone, pulling up his inbox, then hesitated for just a moment before turning the screen slightly toward her. “It’s Viking…”

Kimmy’s face lit up with anticipation, a mix of excitement and nerves. “Oh! What did they say, honey?”

Mark let out a small breath, one corner of his mouth lifting uncertainly. “Well…not really sure what to say, baby.”

That caught her off guard. She leaned in a little closer, brow furrowing. “What do you mean? What did they say?”

He opened the email and read it aloud, his voice steady but measured, “It says “Greetings…..we’d like to offer you the opportunity to join Viking TV as a host.  We believe you’d be wonderful in any of our three formats.  If you are agreeable we would like to sit down with you and determine specific programs for you to host.  As far as compensation we will cover all expenses including travel for you and hotels.  If you host an onboard travel adventure, your entire itinerary will be covered.  In addition, for each episode you host, we want to offer you a flat rate of $1500 USD per week you are away from home.  If this is agreeable, let us know and we will set a time to determine specific programming.  We hope to welcome you officially on board soon.  Regards, David.”

Kimmy didn’t hesitate. Her face broke into a wide smile as she threw her arms around his neck, careful but enthusiastic all the same. “That’s wonderful, baby. Oh my gosh…that’s so exciting.”

Mark didn’t immediately return the energy. He stared at the phone again, his thumb hovering near the screen. “Well…sort of.”

Kimmy pulled back, her smile fading as quickly as it had come. “What do you mean, honey?”

Mark turned the phone slightly, tapping the screen with his finger. “It says ‘you’…over and over. What does that mean? ‘You’ as in both of us…or ‘you’ as in just me?”

Kimmy’s expression shifted, the realization settling in. “Oh…” She looked back at the message, reading it again silently in her head. “You’re right. It’s not clear. And he didn’t say ‘Hi Mark and Kimmy’…just ‘Greetings.’” She glanced back up at him. “What should we do?”

Mark leaned in and kissed her forehead, lingering there for just a second longer than usual. “First concern is getting you back on your feet…”

Kimmy couldn’t help it—she giggled, a soft, mischievous sound that lightened the air. “I did pretty good without getting up though, right?” she said, her cheeks flushing as she looked at him.

Mark’s grin returned, warm and familiar. “Yes…you did,” he said gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “But seriously, I need you 100% again. You can’t be chasing our boy around on one good leg.”

He paused, thinking it through, then nodded to himself. “How about we sit on it for a day? I’ll email them back that we are interested…see what they say.” He squeezed her hand. “Now let me get you some more ice.”

---

By the end of the week, the limp had softened to a careful step, and by the time the weekend slipped quietly behind them, Kimmy was moving almost as if nothing had happened. Monday morning brought them back into rhythm, both of them riding along as Brad filled the car with his usual burst of energy.

“Mom…MOM,” he called from the back seat, his voice bouncing with excitement. “What games do you think we will have in our Junior Olympics today?”

Kimmy reached into her purse and pulled out the folded sheet, smoothing it open as she read through the list. “Well, you get to pick four of them, honey. Do you have any ideas?”

Brad scrunched his face in deep concentration, his eyebrows pulling together as he thought it through like it was the most important decision of his young life. “I think I want to race,” he said finally. “I’m pretty fast, right Dad?”

Mark caught his eyes in the rearview mirror and smiled. “You are. What about the slapshot game? You’ve got a pretty wicked shot when we play in the driveway.”

Brad nodded quickly, building momentum. “Yeah…that one too. And the obstacle course!” He paused, then leaned forward slightly. “One more…Mom, what do you pick?”

Kimmy scanned the list, then smiled. “How about the soccer kick? You can do that, honey.”

Brad nodded with certainty now, decision made. “Cool.”

---

The parking lot buzzed with quiet energy as parents gathered, clipboards and smiles everywhere. Mark and Kimmy signed Brad up for his events, then made their way over to the chain link fence that bordered the playground. Children began to file out in clusters, laughter and chatter filling the air.

Kimmy’s hand found Mark’s arm, giving it a small squeeze. “There’s our little athlete,” she said, her voice warm with pride. “Isn’t this exciting?”

Mark lifted his hand in a small wave when Brad spotted them. Brad’s face lit up instantly, his arm shooting up in an enthusiastic return wave that made both of them laugh. “Proud parents today,” Mark said quietly, almost to himself.

The early events came and went in a blur of motion and noise. In the hockey and soccer challenges, Brad gave it everything he had—swinging hard, running fast—but just missed the net both times. Kimmy cheered anyway, her voice rising above the others, while Mark clapped steadily, offering an encouraging nod each time Brad looked over.

The obstacle course proved trickier. Brad got tangled briefly on the rope climb, his determination clear but his timing just a step off, and he crossed the finish line behind the pack. For a moment, his shoulders dipped—but only for a moment. He bounced back quickly, already turning his attention to what came next.

Then came the final event.

The sprint.

Eight kids lined up across the far end of the playground—six boys, two girls—each one bouncing slightly on their toes, ready. Along the opposite side, two staff members held a thin red ribbon stretched tight between them, waiting.

“On your mark…get set…”

Mark leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the fence, every bit as focused as the runners.

“GO!”

They exploded forward.

Brad was quick off the line, his legs churning, arms pumping. Within seconds he was near the front, right alongside a red-haired girl and another boy. Halfway across, the boy stumbled, going down hard, leaving just two.

“GO BRAD GO!” Kimmy shouted, her voice full of energy and hope.

Mark found himself leaning in even farther, as if he could somehow will his son forward with sheer focus.

Stride for stride they ran.

Closer.

Closer.

At the ribbon, in one final burst, Brad leaned just enough—

And broke it first.

The ribbon snapped loose and fluttered down as cheers erupted. Mark’s fist shot into the air. Kimmy let out a high, joyful squeal. “YAYYYYY!”

Brad turned immediately, scanning the fence, and when he found them, he raised both arms high above his head in triumph, his face lit with pure, unfiltered joy. The other children gathered around him, clapping him on the back, sharing in the moment.

Kimmy threw her arms around Mark, laughing. “WOW…what do you have to say about that, Daddy?”

Mark didn’t take his eyes off his son. His smile was wide, proud, and just a little bit playful as he finally answered.

“I say…” he paused just long enough, then glanced at Kimmy, “…cool.”

And they both laughed.

Walk This Way

It was the last day of the school year and Brad buzzed with excitement as he headed out the door with Kimmy.  “Last day Dad!” he called, “…then vacation, whooo hoooo!”  Kimmy gave a little wave, “I’ll be back in a little bit.  Help me with the puzzle?”  Mark waved and nodded.  The house held that quiet, suspended stillness that only comes at the edges of something meaningful—an ending, or maybe more accurately, a beginning disguised as one. Mark stood for a moment at the doorway, watching Kimmy and Brad pull away, the morning sunlight catching just enough on the windshield to blur the details but not the feeling. Brad’s voice had carried even as the car turned, all energy and celebration—last day, vacation, the promise of something new—while Kimmy’s wave lingered a beat longer, softer, meant just for him. When the road swallowed them, Mark let out a slow breath, one of those breaths that seemed to gather everything that had come before and settle it gently inside him.

He moved back through the house with purpose, though his steps were unhurried. The bedroom, the closet, the top shelf—each motion felt familiar, almost ceremonial. When he reached for the box, tucked carefully behind the folded sweatshirts, his fingers lingered there for a second, as if acknowledging what it held. He brought it down, cradling it lightly, then carried it to the kitchen where the red marker waited. The words came easily—To Kimmy, “US”—simple, imperfect, handwritten, exactly as they should be. He smiled at it, not because it was perfect, but because it was theirs.

Out on the porch, the creek moved the way it always did—steady, unbothered, carrying its quiet rhythm forward. Mark leaned against the railing, the box resting beside him, and for a moment he let himself drift, not into worry or anticipation, but into memory. Not one moment, not one scene, but all of them layered together—the laughter, the scares, the ordinary mornings, the extraordinary nights—each one adding to something that had become, without either of them realizing it, the center of everything.

The door opened sooner than expected, and Kimmy’s voice floated out, light and familiar, the kind of sound that always seemed to find him no matter where he was. Kimmy leaned out her short sleeve white sweater still missing the bottom button, just like Mark liked it.  “Help me with the puzzle honey or you busy?”  Mark curled his finger, “I think it’s time for you to see the surprise.”

Kimmy’s eyes widened and a huge grin spread across her face.  She literally skipped across the porch and through her arms around Mark’s neck.  “FINALLY…what is it, can I have it?”

Mark smiled and softly kissed her forehead.  “We need to do this right, come with me” and he took her hand.  Kimmy instantly felt that inner tingle she was so familiar with, “He’s done it again.  I don’t know what, but I’m pretty sure somehow he’s going to make me so happy I’ll cry.”

The took the steps down off the porch and began heading across the yard below.  “Where are we going baby?” Kimmy asked, her voice anxious with excitement. 

“You’ll see….just another minute or so.”  When they reached the clearing by the creek Mark stopped.  Kimmy’s breath caught, “This….this is where we got married” she said her voice soft and shaking.

“It is baby, and I think it’s the perfect spot for me to give you this.”

He reached around his back and paused, hands on the box tucked into his belt.  “You know how this works.”  Kimmy’s chin dropped to her chest, “Do I have to choose….again?”

Mark chuckled, “OK…no, not this time.” And he pulled the box out and extended it with both hands.

As soon as Kimmy saw the red marker greeting her eyes misted.  “What have you done?”

Mark stood beside here, his arm around her shoulder.  “It’s been a lot…we talked about this at the hotel and I got an idea.  I hope you’ll like it.  Open the box.”

As she opened it, the world seemed to narrow to the space between them.

Kimmy pulled it open and pulled out a small square box, the cover was a color photo of the path along their creek.  Super imposed on it was a red heart with a blue “U” and a yellow “S” in the center.  Kimmy whispered softly as the first tear slowly inched down her cheek, “Us…oh honey.”  She looked up at Mark who smiled softly.  He nodded, “Keep going.”

Kimmy turned the page and the first photo was from the sonogram, “Oh….when we heard Brad’s heartbeat” Kimmy sighed and turned the page.  A smile grew, “On top the tower in Astoria, oh look how big I am!”  She looked at Mark again and he whispered, “You were and are beautiful, turn…”

Kimmy flipped the page, her voice caught, “Our first picture with Brad, oh he’s so tiny honey.”

Kimmy turned the page and a soft laugh escaped her mouth, “The first birthday….look, when he put his hands in the ice cream cake.”  The next turn and Kimmy put her hand to her mouth, “Oh…wow.  Egypt.  That…THAT was epic!”  She turned the page, “Oh…on the terrace – that’s our thing baby, how ironic was that? At the Cataract Hotel.”  Mark kissed her forehead, “It is our thing.  Turn….’

Kimmy reached up and wiped her eye, “Brad putting ornaments on our tree.  I love Christmas so much.”  She turned the page….

“Oh…the shirt and,” she giggled, “Tuesday and Thursday…my favorite days of the week.  She looked up and smiled at Mark.  Mark’s face flickered, “I….I didn’t want to put a picture of me from the accident, but what came out of it…that’s what’s important.”

Kimmy buried her head in Mark’s chest, crying softly.  “I was so scared honey….it was awful.”  Mark lifted her face, “The book baby, there’s more.” 

“You’re killing me” Kimmy said softly with a small smile.  She turned the page and laughed out loud, “OH the Disney cruise, Spiderman!”  Mark smiled and he put his hand on the book.  “Remember honey, only good thoughts….”  Kimmy slowly turned the page, “The Bed & Breakfast in the mountains after…..”  Mark cradled her chin, “It’s all good, remember how every day was a Tuesday or Thursday” and Kimmy’s face brightened again.  “Oh, I remember, boy do I” she smiled.  She turned the page.  “Oh Santa!  Where did you get this one, right after Brad said we messed up the bed?”  Mark laughed, “I called the store, they hooked me up with the Santa company and somehow they were clicking photos thinking he was about to smile.”  Kimmy held the book to her chest, “This one is precious.”  And she turned the page again,

“OH, at Allan and Sally’s.  Love those guys.”  She turned the page again, “Hockey Night – how great was that, and then….”  Mark smiled, “I know…but we won’t put that in our memory book.”  Kimmy giggled.  She turned the page, “Derby Day.  Oh look how good we all look!”

Mark put his hand on the page and said softly, “On more….”  Kimmy’s eyes grew watery as she turned the page.  “The night we met for dinner, when I asked….”

Mark nodded and put his forehead to hers, “Where it all started…the first time we chose US.  It’s always you baby.  You and me….just US.”

Kimmy closed the book and clutched it to her chest and buried her face in Mark’s shoulder, softly crying.  A muffled, “Happy tears” came as slowly her breathing returned.  Kimmy rose on her toes, wrapped her arms around Mark’s neck and kissed him deeply.  When they parted she said softly, “I don’t know how you do it over and over, but all I DO know is how very, VERY much I love you.  Always have….always will.”

Mark smiled, took her hand and said, “Walk with me.”

Kimmy took his hand, but as soon as they hit the path along the creek she looped her arm though his and pulled him close as they slowly walked along, lost in the emotions of the memories.  Mark slowed and said softly, “It was right about here you whispered,”

Kimmy smiled and looked at him, “I’m pregnant.  What a ride, right baby?”

Mark started to walk even more slowly.  “I have to tell you something.  I thought giving you the book would be a good way to soften, so to speak this…”

Kimmy looked up anxiously, “What baby….you’re ok right?”

Mark smiled and looked straight ahead.  He said softly, “I heard back from Viking….”

Kimmy’s shoulders sagged a little, “And….”

Mark sighed and stopped, he turned and took her hands, he paused a beat.  Kimmy’s eyes were anxious.

Mark said slowly, “I didn’t get the job.”

“Oh baby,” Kimmy said softly.

Mark’s eyes sparkled and Kimmy’s widened, “They offered it to US.”

 

 

Book 2: Chapter 15

 Chapter 15:  I Dream of Spring

Ticket To Ride

When Kimmy returned from the Sunrise Academy drop-off, she found her coffee and puzzle waiting in their usual spot on the table, the morning sunlight stretching across the wood surface just enough to warm the edge of her mug. Through the window she could see Mark out on the porch, laptop open, his shoulders relaxed as he worked, the familiar rhythm of the creek just beyond him. She smiled to herself—some things never changed—and stepped outside.

“Hey baby…I have to show you this.”

Mark looked up, his eyes softening immediately when he saw her. “Is this part of today’s Tuesday plan?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. “Because that always gets my attention.”

Kimmy grinned and dropped into the seat beside him, tucking one leg under herself. She pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper, green crayon markings covering nearly every inch.

“Your son showed this to me this morning,” she said, holding it up. “Said he’s been working on it for the last couple of days.”

Mark took the paper, but the letters wouldn’t settle into focus. He brought it closer, then farther away, blinking slightly as he tried to make sense of it. Kimmy’s expression softened instantly.

“Want me to read it, baby?” she asked gently.

Mark frowned just a touch. “No…I can do it.” He paused, then turned to her with a small, apologetic smile. “Sorry…just frustrating sometimes if I don’t have my readers.” He looked back at the page. “Is this his packing list for the trip?”

Kimmy chuckled and leaned in, pointing to each item as she read. “Blanket…Mickey…Peter…guys—I think those are all his Peter Pan figurines…,” she said, laughing softly. “And then check the last one—‘clothes.’ Isn’t he the cutest?”

Mark handed the paper back and rested his hand over hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “He is most certainly your son,” he said warmly, “because I know you already have a list.” He shook his head. “Unlike you two, I’m just going to wing it the day before.”

Kimmy crossed her arms and gave him a look that could stop traffic. “You will NOT be doing that, mister. If nothing else, we have to coordinate Derby outfits. And just so you know, tomorrow Sally and I are going shopping to find that special dress.” She narrowed her eyes playfully. “And don’t even try to put me on a budget.”

Mark leaned back, hands raised in surrender, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh honey, I learned long ago that one of the secrets to our happiness is that we have our own lanes…” He paused for effect. “Kimmy buys…Mark pays. And that works just fine.”

Kimmy leaned back in her chair, beaming. “Sometimes…just sometimes, you are pretty smart.” She tilted her head, studying him. “Now let’s see how smart you are…is it puzzle time or mess-up-the-bed time?”

Mark slowly closed his laptop, giving the question the weight it deserved. “Well…of course it’s just a suggestion…”

Kimmy nodded. “Of course.”

“…but if I’m being asked,” he continued, standing and offering his hand, “I’d say we should head to the bedroom. It’s never a good idea to keep my girl waiting…and wanting.”

Kimmy took his hand without hesitation, her smile soft but certain. “Such a clever boy,” she said. “Now come along…let’s enjoy our morning.”

---

Kimmy eased forward in the pickup line that afternoon, the slow crawl of cars giving her just enough time to mentally organize everything swirling in her head. She glanced over at Mark, who sat relaxed but attentive beside her.

“So seriously,” she began, ticking items off in her mind, “I’ve got a mental checklist going. Flights are handled. We need beach stuff, shorts, at least one more nice outfit…” She paused. “Oh—are we doing a Derby dinner the night before? And obviously something after the races.”

Mark pulled out his phone, already tapping. “That’s a good question. I’ll text Jeff and Gina, see who’s got the other tickets and what the plan is.” He glanced up at her. “You’d like to do that, right? Bring the little man…show him off?”

Kimmy turned toward him, her whole face lighting up. “Yes…yes, I would.”

Up ahead, Brad stood on the steps holding the staff member’s hand, already bouncing with anticipation. The moment he spotted the car, he began waving wildly.

Mark was out of his seat before Kimmy had fully stopped, opening the back door just as Brad climbed in.

“Hi Dad! Guess what? Oh—hi Mom!”

Mark fastened the seatbelt across his lap as Brad dug frantically through his backpack. “Look!” he said, pulling out a piece of paper and holding it up proudly.

Mark studied the drawing—three figures, a bright yellow sun, a solid blue rectangle beneath them. One of the taller figures had long, flowing hair.

“This is us on vacation, isn’t it?” Mark said.

Brad beamed. “Right! See Mom—there’s you…there’s Dad…and…”

Mark turned the paper toward Kimmy. “…and there’s Brad. We’re all on the beach.”

Kimmy glanced up into the mirror, catching Brad’s anxious eyes waiting for approval. Her heart softened instantly.

“That’s just wonderful, honey,” she said. “Mom and Dad are so proud of you.”

The smile that followed was instant and radiant. Brad settled back, pulling out his headphones and opening his iPad, completely content.

---

Sandy stood in the doorway that evening, Brad’s small hand wrapped in hers as they waved goodbye. Mark pulled the car out slowly, checking both directions before easing onto the main road. Kimmy flipped down the visor mirror, smoothing a loose strand of hair back into place.

Mark glanced over, smiling.

“I love that green sweater,” he said. “And it goes great with the white skirt, baby. Just make sure you don’t spill on it. I work hard enough on the laundry every Monday without adding special stains.”

Kimmy laughed, patting his thigh. “I’m glad you handle the laundry—we’d never have clean clothes if it was up to me.”

They shared an easy laugh, the kind that came from knowing each other so well it didn’t need effort.

Not long after, they were seated at their favorite Italian restaurant. No menus needed. The wine arrived, and as the waiter stepped away, Kimmy reached into her bag and pulled out a color-coded chart.

Mark froze mid-sip. “Oh my God…you’ve finally crossed over to the dark side and accepted my color-coded organizational methods!”

Kimmy reached across the table, placing her hand gently on his cheek. “Stop,” she said sweetly. “This is complicated. A short trip with beach, hockey, and the Florida Derby?” She raised an eyebrow. “Unless we’re taking a dozen suitcases, we need to be organized.” She slid the chart toward him. “Now look…”

And through dinner, between bites and sips of wine, they mapped it all out—outfits, timing, what Brad would need, what would make it not just a trip, but a memory.

---

Later that evening, Allan and Mark sat cross-legged on the floor with Brad and Jillian, a scattered deck of cards between them. Laughter burst out with every slap of a card as Sally and Kimmy finished up in the kitchen.

Kimmy handed Sally a plate. “We really appreciate you guys hosting tonight,” she said warmly. “We love spending time with you. And hopefully we can make some decisions about the Viking Christmas Markets trip.”

Sally slid the last bowl into the refrigerator and grabbed four wine glasses. “Allan and I went over everything—we can make it work,” she said. “So now it’s just picking the itinerary…and figuring out the kids.”

“I WIN!” Brad shouted, jumping to his feet. “Mom! MOM! I beat Dad AND Uncle Allan!”

Mark and Allan stood, exchanging amused looks.

“Jilly,” Allan said, “you and Brad can keep playing or watch your iPads. We’re heading out to the porch.”

“Sure Daddy…one more game, okay Brad?”

Brad was already shuffling the cards.

---

Out on the porch, the creek rippled softly under the dark March sky, the fire casting a warm glow across familiar faces. Sally poured white wine for Mark and herself, while Allan and Kimmy filled theirs with red.

Once settled, Allan leaned back in his rocker. “So…you guys probably know more about the itineraries. What do you think?”

Kimmy glanced at Mark. He gave a small nod.

“We think it comes down to which river you want,” she said. “Rhine or Danube—very similar overall. But you’ve done the Rhine with us before, and not the Danube. We’ve done both.”

Sally sipped her wine thoughtfully. “But even the Rhine wouldn’t be like the summer trip we took, right?”

Mark leaned forward, resting his glass on the fire pit. “No, not even close. Five of the seven stops are different. And the Belgium extension—three nights—that would be really special that time of year.” He paused. “It’s not really for us to decide…but if you’re asking? I’d lean Rhine.”

Kimmy set her glass down. “And we were thinking…would you be okay if we invited Larry and Lisa? The couple we met in Egypt?”

Allan smiled. “If they’re friends of yours, we’re in.”

And the rest of the evening unfolded just like that—dates compared, ideas shared, possibilities shaped—until plans began to take form.

Eventually, conversation gave way to quiet. The fire crackled softly, the creek continued its steady song, and the four of them sat together, content, a plan in place—and something even better beneath it.

Spring was coming.

Leaving On A Jet Plane (Polished Version)

Mark stood at the edge of the bed holding up two polo shirts—one navy, one soft gray—studying them like the decision somehow mattered more than it actually did. He tilted his head slightly, weighing options, when the bedroom door opened and Kimmy walked in carrying four large shopping bags, their handles digging slightly into her fingers.

Mark froze mid-thought, his mouth falling open as she set them down beside the two already open suitcases.

Kimmy glanced at him, completely unfazed, and smiled. “What?”

Mark slowly lowered the shirts and pointed at the bags. “Where…did those come from?”

Kimmy let out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes with theatrical patience. “I told you last Tuesday that Sally and I were going shopping for things for our big weekend. I got a couple of things.”

Mark cocked his head, eyebrows lifting. “A couple of things?” He took a step closer, narrowing his eyes playfully. “And how exactly did I not see these when you got home? Were you sneaking them in so I wouldn’t know?”

Kimmy stepped right into him, slipping her arms around his neck, her eyes bright and just a little mischievous. “Can’t a girl have a shopping spree for her two boys?” she asked sweetly. “It’s okay, right? You really don’t mind, do you…?” She tilted her head just slightly, that look landing exactly where she knew it would.

“I could take it all back…”

“Stop,” Mark said immediately, laughing as he surrendered. “You stop doing that thing you do. You know…you just know I can’t resist that look and tone.” He shook his head. “What did you buy?”

Kimmy kissed him quickly, then practically bounced on her toes. “Yay…I’m so excited. Check it out!”

From the first bag, she pulled out navy board shorts and two Hawaiian print shirts, holding them up proudly before laying them on the bed. Then came a matching pair of shorts for Brad, followed by two small t-shirts.

Mark nodded approvingly. “Okay…very solid start.”

Kimmy turned her back to him, shielding her next reveal like it was top secret. When she spun back around, she held up two tiny bikinis on hangers—one bright pink with navy flowers, the other a bold crimson.

Mark didn’t even hesitate. “Oh…yes. Those…” he said, nodding emphatically. “You can buy as many of those as you like. I am going to thoroughly enjoy our beach day.”

Kimmy pointed at him instantly, her expression shifting to all-business. “You are NOT allowed in the sun, mister. We’ve had enough skin issues. That is not happening.”

Mark smiled, completely prepared. “Already handled. When I made the reservations at the Beach House resort, I made sure they had cabanas and umbrella rentals. I will be fully protected.”

Kimmy’s expression softened right back into a smile. “That was smart of you…good job, honey.” She reached for another bag. “And now…ready? Here’s the Derby dress. And I’ve got an idea for what you can wear.”

She pulled out a light gray, sleeveless mini-dress, the fabric catching the light as waves of pink and black crisscrossed across it. In her other hand, she held up a small fascinator—black with soft pink accents.

“Well…what do you think?”

Mark’s face lit up instantly. “That’s so you,” he said. “I can already see you being the fashion icon of the Derby.” He stepped to the closet, pulling out his slate gray jacket and holding it up beside the dress.

Kimmy’s eyes lit. “Perfect.”

Then, thinking it through, she added, “What if instead of a dress shirt and tie—you always get so hot—you wear that short-sleeve black mock turtleneck? It’s lightweight, and it picks up the black in my dress.”

Mark nodded. “I like it. What about the little man?”

Kimmy grinned and reached into another bag, pulling out gray shorts and a short-sleeve button-down—mostly black, but with a pink horse head stitched onto the chest pocket.

Mark blinked. “Where did you ever find that?”

“Sally spotted it,” Kimmy said proudly. “Buried on a rack. It was meant to be.”

“DAD! DAD! Where’s my suitcase?”

Brad stood in the doorway, Mickey Mouse tucked under one arm, Peter Pan under the other, already buzzing with excitement.

Kimmy held up the outfit. “This is for you, honey—for our day at the horse races.”

Brad gave it a quick glance, already moving on. “Dad, where’s my suitcase? Do you have my jersey out? What about my hoodie—should I wear a hoodie under the jersey? Is it cold at a hockey game? It has to be, right? But the players aren’t cold…or are they? Probably not when they’re playing, but we’re just sitting…” He paused mid-thought. “Dad, do you have my jersey out? Oh wait—it’s in my closet, I’ll get it!” And just like that, he disappeared down the hall.

Mark slowly turned toward Kimmy, his expression amused. “Now…who does THAT sound like?”

Kimmy covered her mouth, laughing. “I don’t have the faintest idea what you are talking about, honey.”

---

The captain’s voice came over the speaker, calm and steady. “We are making our final approach to Fort Lauderdale International Airport. We should have you at the gate in less than thirty minutes.”

Brad’s hands were glued to the airplane window, his face pressed close as he pointed excitedly. “Mom! MOM! Look…there’s the beach! Is that where we’re staying?”

Mark leaned forward, looking past Kimmy and over Brad’s shoulder. “See the big white one over there…just past the blue one? That’s where we’ll be.”

Brad’s nose pressed tighter to the glass. “Coooool.”

Kimmy squeezed Mark’s arm and reached up to smooth Brad’s hair. “We’re about to have the best time,” she said softly.

---

The hotel shuttle pulled under the wide canopy, the warm Florida air wrapping around them as soon as the doors opened. A bellman began unloading the luggage while Kimmy helped Brad down.

Mark tipped the driver and followed the cart inside, where Brad stopped dead in the middle of the lobby, his eyes traveling all the way up to the ceiling.

“Mom…this is cool. Look how high this is.”

Kimmy smiled, pointing toward the massive glass doors. “Look out there, honey. See the ocean?”

Brad’s hand slipped free as he ran to the windows. “Oh cool…see the water, Mom? Dad! DAD! The ocean!”

Mark finished at the desk, thanking the clerk before turning back toward them. “Pretty awesome, right buddy? Come on, let’s head up.”

The elevator doors slid closed, and Mark pressed “15.”

Brad looked up at the display. “Are we going up fifteen floors, Dad? Will we have a balcony? Can we see the ocean from our room? Mom, did you know we’re going that high? Cool.”

Mark and Kimmy exchanged a look—equal parts amusement and affection—as the numbers ticked upward.

---

The door clicked open, revealing an expansive living room beyond a small kitchenette, with a separate bedroom tucked just off to the side. But Brad was already racing ahead, stopping at the glass doors leading to the balcony, tugging at them impatiently.

“They won’t open!”

“Here, honey,” Kimmy said, stepping in. She unlocked the door and slid it open, and immediately the warm evening breeze rolled in, carrying the scent of salt and the distant rhythm of waves.

Brad stepped forward to the railing, completely still now, eyes locked on the ocean below. “Cool,” he whispered, almost reverently.

Mark stepped up behind Kimmy, wrapping his arms around her waist, his chin brushing her shoulder as he kissed her neck softly.

“Like the room?”

Kimmy leaned back into him, her voice quiet, content. “It’s perfect.” She smiled slightly. “I especially like that we have our own private bedroom…because, well…tomorrow is Thursday.”

Mark kissed her neck again, lingering just a moment longer. “I have to admit…I did consider that when I looked at the room options.”

Out on the horizon, the sun shifted from gold to deep orange, slowly sinking into the Atlantic. Inside, bags were unpacked, clothes laid out, plans quietly settling into place.

And just beyond the balcony, the sound of the waves carried the promise of everything that was still to come.

The Games People Play – Part 1

The morning sun streamed through the sliding glass doors, painting long golden lines across the floor as the soft, rhythmic crash of the ocean below filled the room. It was the kind of sound that didn’t just wake you—it eased you awake.

Kimmy stirred slowly, a small smile already forming before her eyes even opened.

But something felt…off.

The heartbeat.

One eye cracked open, then the other, and instead of finding herself nestled against Mark’s chest, she realized she was lying across his lap. He was sitting upright, his back against the headboard, his attention fixed on his phone.

“Morning baby…” she murmured softly, her voice still wrapped in sleep. “How’s my man today? And why are you up so early?”

Mark’s expression softened the moment he looked down at her. “I’m sorry if I woke you, honey.”

Kimmy pushed herself up just enough to tuck herself under his arm, settling in close like she belonged there. “You didn’t,” she said, her curiosity already rising. “What’s so interesting on your phone this morning?”

For just a beat, Mark didn’t answer. Something flickered across his face—thoughtful, measured—and he let the question sit between them.

“What?” Kimmy said, more alert now, her tone shifting.

Mark handed her the phone. “Best you read it…then we’ll see if your take matches mine.”

Kimmy took it, her eyes scanning quickly as she realized it was an email.

“Best you read it and then we’ll see if your take is like mine….”

He passed the phone over to Kimmy and she saw it was an email:

From:  MacKenzie Chambers, Viking TV Office Manager

Re:  Follow-up

Kimmy looked up, “MacKenzie, Office Manager….I thought….”

Mark nodded, “Keep going….”

Hi Mark & Kimmy from London!

I was recently hired to fill an opening here as Office Manager for David and his first task to me was to go through recent files and make sure everything was in order.  Your file seems to be incomplete.  I see you were here for meetings and then nothing was resolved.  If possible, could I reach out to you in a video chat?  Maybe see what we can do?

Cheers,

MacKenzie

“Well….that’s interesting,” Kimmy said.  “What do you think happened to…”

Mark shook his head before she could finish. “Don’t know. Don’t care.” He paused, then added more quietly, “But what about this? I figured we’d closed that door and moved on. I’m okay with that, but…”

Kimmy sat up fully now, her hands coming to his face, holding him there so he couldn’t look away.

“Oh honey,” she said softly, “I think if there’s still a chance for you to do this, we should pursue it. You’d be just wonderful.”

Mark shook his head again, steady this time. “No, baby. I’m willing to talk…but only if it’s about us. Just us. We’re a team—or it’s a non-negotiable deal.” He studied her. “So do you think—”

“MOM! MOM! I’m hungry! What is for breakfast?”

Bare feet slapped across the floor, and suddenly a small, wild-haired presence filled the doorway, palms up, eyes wide.

Mark and Kimmy broke at the same time, laughter replacing whatever weight had been building.

Kimmy leaned in quickly, brushing a kiss across Mark’s lips. “Email her back. Tell her we’ll talk.”

Then she slid out of bed and crossed the room. “We need to get our beach things on,” she said, scooping Brad up in the moment, “because Daddy is taking us to breakfast downstairs…then…”

Brad’s eyes grew impossibly wide.

“…to the beach!”

Brad jumped up and down, spinning in place. “Dad! DAD! Breakfast and beach…COOL!”

---

Brad was halfway through his second plate of dollar pancakes, syrup trailing dangerously close to the edge of the plate, as Mark and Kimmy sat across from him, coffee in hand, the ocean stretching endlessly beyond the open-air dining area.

“Well,” Mark said, glancing out at the horizon, “it’s not Wawa and it’s not the porch…but I have to admit, I could get used to sitting on the beach every morning.”  Kimmy reached across the table and took his hand, her thumb brushing lightly over his fingers. “Do you miss it…Florida?”  Mark lifted her hand, pressing a soft kiss into it. “Haven’t given it one thought since moving in with you in North Carolina.”

Kimmy’s breath caught just slightly, her eyes misting before she could stop it. She leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “See…you have a ‘thing’ like I do,” she whispered. “But yours is the way you say things that just makes me tingle…like I’m the luckiest woman ever.”

“Ready? MOM…are you crying?”

Both of them turned as Brad stared at her, mid-bite, concern written all over his face.

“Dad…is Mom crying? Doesn’t she want to go to the beach? You don’t have to go Mom, Dad can take me, right Dad? But I’d want you to come Mom…you said we’d play in the sand. Did you bring the bag? Is the shovel and bucket in there? What about my guys—Peter, Hook—did you remember? Did she remember, Dad? When are we going?”

Kimmy wiped at the corner of her eye, laughing softly as Mark shook his head.

“Momma’s not sad,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Just really happy.” She stood, pulling him up. “Let’s go down and get our big tent set up. Daddy can pay the bill—that’s his thing. Did you know that?”

Brad turned toward Mark, his expression shifting instantly to admiration. “Really, Dad? Cool.”

And just like that, he and Kimmy were off, hand in hand, heading toward the beach.

---

Brad stood ankle-deep in the surf, the tide rolling in and out, each retreat pulling the sand out from beneath his feet. Every time it happened, he burst into laughter, as if the ocean were playing a game just for him.

Just up the beach, Mark and Kimmy stood together, out of reach of the water. Mark’s Hawaiian shirt hung open, catching the breeze, while his matching board shorts mirrored the ones Brad wore below. Kimmy leaned into him, her arm around his waist, his hand resting comfortably at the small of her back, just above the line of her pink bikini bottoms scattered with navy flowers.

Mark let his eyes travel slowly over her, the sunlight catching her necklace, the sparkle of it drawing his hand instinctively to her bracelet—the silver band, the ruby set between the letters “U” and “S.”

He leaned in slightly. “Think someone’s having a good day?”

“Mom! MOM!” Brad called, spinning around with his arms stretched wide. “Look at my feet! I’m buried in the sand! Cool!”

Kimmy laughed softly. “And this isn’t even the highlight,” she said under her breath. “How excited is he going to be at the game tonight?”

Mark watched Brad splash wildly, sending water in every direction. “Oh…off the charts. If Sam Bennett scores, we may have to physically restrain him from jumping the railing and running onto the ice.”

They both laughed as Brad came charging back up the beach.

“Mom! MOM! I’m hungry. What’s for lunch? Did you see my feet? They were IN the sand. Did you see, Dad?” He pointed dramatically back toward the water. “Cool.”

Mark dropped to one knee, hands settling on Brad’s shoulders. “Okay…here’s my plan. Do you know where the Panthers practice, buddy?”

Brad shook his head so hard his hair bounced.

Kimmy covered her mouth, already laughing.

“Well…” Mark said, drawing it out, “…it’s at the War Memorial Ice Rink. About fifteen minutes from here. And you’re never going to guess…”

Brad leaned in, eyes huge. “Whaaaattttt?”

Mark raised a finger. “They have a restaurant there that looks out over the rink…and…”

Brad turned to Kimmy, already in awe. “Cool.”

“…and they have a huge gift shop called Pantherland where we could…”

Brad’s mouth dropped open. “Buy stuff? Mom! MOM! Can we buy some stuff? Oh wait—Dad is the one who pays, right? Can we, Dad? That would be…it would be…cool!”

Mark and Kimmy burst out laughing, and Kimmy reached down to ruffle his hair.

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Daddy will pay. And it is…very cool.”

The Games People Play – Part 2

Brad’s head was on a swivel, his wide eyes taking in everything at once as they climbed the stairs to the second level of the War Memorial Arena, the Florida Panthers’ practice facility. The sounds hit him first—the scrape of skates on ice, the hollow thud of a puck against the boards, voices echoing in bursts that seemed bigger than the space itself. He turned this way and that, trying to absorb it all at once, as if something might disappear if he didn’t look fast enough.

Mark guided him gently toward the restaurant that overlooked the rink, his hand resting lightly on Brad’s shoulder. Kimmy slipped her arm around Mark’s back as they approached the counter, her eyes scanning the menu overhead.

“Look honey,” she said, tilting her head slightly toward Brad, “they have chicken nuggets. Would you like that?”

Brad hadn’t taken his eyes off the ice, but at the word nuggets, his head snapped around instantly. “Nuggets? Yes, ‘pease… I like nuggets.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m hungry, Dad…can you buy me lots?”

Mark smiled down at him. “How about some fries to go with that? You like that?”

Brad’s head bobbed so fast it looked like it might come loose. Kimmy laughed softly and glanced back up at the menu. “Can you get me the chicken salad? I’ll take him to a table—one that overlooks the ice, okay?”

Mark nodded, stepping forward to place the order.

---

By the time Mark carefully carried the tray over, Brad was already pressed up against the glass, his hands flat against it, watching the empty ice like it was a living thing.

“Ten nuggets, fries, ketchup, and a Sprite,” Mark said as he set the tray down. “Look good, Bradee-oh?”

Brad turned just long enough to grab a nugget before his attention snapped right back to the rink. “Dad…do they really practice here?”

Mark sat down beside him, following his gaze. “They do. And they were probably out there just this morning for their morning skate.”

Brad’s eyes widened, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. “Cool.”

Kimmy began cutting into her salad, then looped her arm through Mark’s as naturally as breathing. “This looks good, baby. Do you want some? It’s a lot.”

Mark held up his grilled cheese and studied it like a critic. “Look honey…they don’t know how to make these. There’s not a single burnt edge.”

Kimmy burst out laughing, the memory instantly shared between them.

“North Carolina would not approve,” she teased.

She took a bite, then leaned in just slightly, her tone softening. “Have you thought about that email? Will you say okay?”

Mark wiped a bit of melted cheese from the corner of his mouth and nodded. “After you encouraged me, I thought it was worth saying we’re interested. I told MacKenzie we’re on a long weekend getaway and we’d be available next week if she wants to connect.”

Kimmy leaned over and kissed his cheek. “That’s good. I’m glad you did that.” She paused, her eyes thoughtful. “I really do think they’d love you to host a show…”

Mark gave her a look.

She smiled immediately. “…I know, I know. Only if it’s us.” She squeezed his hand. “I think there’s a chance. We’ll see.”

---

The massive Pantherland gift store might as well have been another world entirely.

Brad moved through it like a whirlwind, darting from rack to rack, stopping just long enough to examine something before moving on again. Jerseys, hats, sticks, pucks—every shelf held something new to discover.

Finally, he approached Mark, clutching a red Florida Panthers ball cap.

“This, Dad…can I have this hat?”

Mark took it, adjusted the strap, and set it carefully on Brad’s head. It fit just right.

Brad beamed, turning toward Kimmy. “Mom! MOM! Look at my hat. Dad’s buying—he does that, right?”

Kimmy laughed softly. “That hat is perfect for you, honey. You can wear it at the game tonight.” She picked up a Stanley Cup Champions scarf and handed it to Mark. “Here baby, I’d like this scarf.”

Brad’s eyes lit up again, and suddenly the words came rushing out, his hands flying as he talked.

“Can you buy that for Mom, Dad? You pay for things—can she have it? It probably doesn’t cost too much, right? It’s not like she wants a jersey, but she already has a jersey so she wouldn’t want one anyway, but wait—hers doesn’t have a name and number. Maybe she wants a Bennett jersey, do you Mom? No…you wouldn’t want that, he’s my favorite player. You like Barkov, don’t you? Mom likes Barkov, doesn’t she Dad? So will you buy it or not—here I’ll take it to the counter!”

And just like that, he grabbed the scarf and sprinted toward the register.

Kimmy covered her mouth, laughing. Mark shook his head, slipping his arm around her waist.

“You cannot—simply cannot—deny he’s your boy,” he said. “Non-stop chatter…and the hands? That’s so, so you.”

Kimmy leaned into him, still smiling. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

---

The elevator hummed softly as it carried them back up.  Mark glanced down at Brad. “Alright, here’s the deal, pal. You know the game doesn’t start until later tonight, right?”

Brad nodded quickly.

“And you don’t usually get to stay up for the whole game…”

Brad’s head shook side to side this time.

“…but tonight, we’ll be at the game. So no early bedtime.”

Brad’s entire face lit up. “Mom! MOM! I get to stay up tonight! Dad says!”

Kimmy smiled warmly. “Well yes, honey…we’ll be at the game.”

Brad paused, thinking it through, the gears visibly turning.

Mark leaned in slightly. “But you don’t want to fall asleep at the game, right?”

Brad shook his head slowly now, considering.

“So when we get back to the room,” Mark continued, “you can lay on Mom and Dad’s bed with your iPad. And if you take a little nap…we’ll wake you up. Deal?”

Brad nodded, then turned to Kimmy. “Mom…MOM, you wake me up if I sleep, right?”

Kimmy kissed the top of his head. “Of course, honey. We’ll wake you up, get some dinner, then head to the game.”

The elevator doors slid open, and Brad took off down the hallway at full speed.

Kimmy slipped her hand into Mark’s. “Masterfully done,” she said. “You just convinced a five-year-old to take a nap—and he has no idea.”

Mark squeezed her hand. “I have my moments.”

Kimmy leaned in, her voice soft. “More than moments, baby.”

---

Kimmy cut the pizza into six slices and placed two on a plate. “Brad, honey…pizza’s ready.”

Brad stood at the balcony railing, his hands gripping it as he stared out at the endless ocean. Mark sat beside him, sipping a Coke Zero, just watching.

“Pizza, Dad!” Brad called, spinning and sprinting inside.

Seconds later, he reappeared. “Can I eat it out here, Dad?” he asked, eyes wide with hope.

Mark smiled. “Sure, buddy.”

Brad beamed. “Cool.” He dashed back inside.

“Mom! MOM! Dad said I can eat outside—that’s cool, right?”

Kimmy handed him the plate. “Hey—napkin,” she said, slipping one into his hand. “And yes, that’s cool. Your Daddy is a cool guy.”

Brad laughed. “Mom, you say cool dude, not cool guy. You’re funny.”

He carefully carried his plate back out and sat beside Mark. Kimmy followed with a glass of milk, setting it gently on the small table.

“Want some pizza, baby?” she asked Mark.

He shook his head. “No thanks, honey. That grilled cheese filled me up. Maybe something at the game.”

Kimmy smiled knowingly, squeezing his shoulder. “Oh, I remember the routine. In between periods—we get cookies. Big, soft cookies.”

Brad looked up, mouth full, eyes lighting up.

“Cookies?” he said.

A beat.

“Cool.”

The Games People Play – Part 3: Game Night / THURSDAY Night Hockey

As Mark eased the car into a parking spot outside the arena, Brad could hardly stay seated, his head whipping from side to side as the glowing façade of the building rose in front of them.

“LOOK!” he shouted, pointing through the windshield. “That’s where they play…cool.”

Kimmy laughed as she opened her door, the warm Florida night wrapping around them. Brad was already out, darting between the parked cars ahead.

“Whoa, buddy!” Mark called after him, stepping out quickly. “You’ve got to wait for us—lots of cars here.”

Brad stopped, bouncing on his toes as he waited, tugging at his new Panthers cap and straightening the white hoodie beneath his Sam Bennett jersey.

“It’s going to be cold inside, right Dad?” he said in a rush. “Mom, that scarf will keep you warm, right? Come on, let’s go.”

Kimmy took his hand, looping her arm through Mark’s as they started toward the arena doors.

“It is exciting, baby,” she said softly. “Has to feel good being back at a game.”

Mark’s grin spread easily. “You asked me if I miss Florida…this is the part I miss. Season tickets, nights like this. I just can’t bring myself to cross over and root for Carolina—we’ve had too many battles with them.”

Kimmy smiled as they moved through security, the hum of the crowd growing louder with each step.

Brad tugged on Mark’s sleeve again. “You got the tickets, Dad? Mom said you paid—you paid for them, right? We don’t have to wait in line? Can we just go in? Oh—is that where we go? Ohhhh…cool. Look at Barkov! “  Brad pointed to the huge portrait on the arena glass ahed, “Mom, he’s your favorite—he’s HUGE!”

Mark laughed, guiding them forward as he scanned the tickets, the blast of cool air inside the arena washing over them. Kimmy wrapped her scarf snugly around her neck, tightening her grip on Brad’s hand as they stepped into the swirl of lights, color, and sound.

Brad’s eyes widened even further as the arena opened up around them.

“Which way, Dad…which way to our seats?”

Mark pointed toward the escalator. “Up this way—third level.”

They stepped onto the moving stairs, rising slowly through a sea of jerseys and excited voices. Brad leaned over the rail, pointing again.

“Mom! MOM! Pantherland—like where we were today. Cool.”

At the top, Mark took Kimmy’s hand as she held onto Brad’s, guiding them along the concourse.

“Our section’s this way—other side of the arena.”

They reached Section 318, and Mark nodded to the usher.

“Do you know where your seats are?” the man asked.

Mark smiled. “Yes, sir—but would you mind taking our picture?”

Brad had already started down the steps.

“Hey, buddy—hang on. Stand here between Mom and me.”

Kimmy straightened her scarf so it fell just right. Mark adjusted his hoodie and visor. Kimmy tipped Brad’s hat just slightly, and together they placed their hands on his shoulders, smiling as the photo was snapped.

Mark glanced at it and grinned. “Oh, that’s a good one.”

Kimmy leaned in, her voice rising with delight. “That is just adorable—look, honey—”

But Brad was already gone, six steps down, pressed up against the glass.

“Dad! DAD! There are the Panthers! Oh look—there’s Benny! BENNY! BENNY!”

Mark guided him into the row, smiling. “Right here, buddy—front row.”

Brad looked up, stunned. “First row…right here? Cool.”

When warmups ended and Stanley C. Panther burst onto the ice waving the giant flag, Brad shot to his feet.

“Stanley! STANLEY! Mom, do you see him?”

Kimmy held onto the back of his jersey as he leaned forward against the glass. She glanced at Mark, a flicker of concern in her eyes.

“That’s a big drop.”

Mark nodded. “He’s fine—but yeah, keep a hand on him.”

The lights dropped suddenly, plunging the arena into darkness before the jumbotron exploded to life—music pounding, highlights flashing across the screen. When Bennett’s goal lit up the arena, Brad jumped again.

“YES BENNY!”

The crowd roared back as the lights came up, and everyone rose for the anthem. Brad stood straight, pulling off his cap and placing it carefully over his heart.

Mark glanced down, then over at Kimmy.

“So cute,” she whispered.

The puck dropped—and everything changed.

The speed, the sound, the constant motion—Brad reacted to every moment.

“Oh!”

“WOW!”

“OOOHH what a save!”

Late in the period, the Panthers scored, and Brad erupted.

“GOAL! GOAL! YESSS!”

Mark stood, high-fiving Kimmy as the goal horn blasted, the music shaking through the arena.

---

At the break, they made their way up to the concourse.

Mark nodded toward Kimmy. “Go grab a table—I’ll get the cookies.”

Brad stood at the high-top, barely tall enough to rest his chin on it, drumming his hands excitedly.

“Mom! MOM! We’re at the game! Did you see that save? Did you see the goal? Cool. Where’s Dad? Do I get a whole cookie? And the dancers—they’re really good, aren’t they? And Barkov—that’s your favorite…well Dad is your favorite but he doesn’t play hockey so I mean Barkov is your favorite hockey player and Dad is your favorite cool DUDE—Mom you’re funny!”

Kimmy laughed, shaking her head.

Mark returned, setting down three oversized cookies and two Coke Zeros.

“You don’t have to eat it all now,” he said, handing one to Brad. “Sometimes we eat them during the period—but you decide.”

---

The second period flew by, then the third—fast, relentless, electric.

Brad spent more time standing than sitting, gripping the rail, reacting to every shift of the puck. Mark found himself glancing over at Kimmy again and again, watching her watch Brad.

During a timeout, she leaned in.

“This is great. He’s having the best time.”

Mark nodded. “I keep finding myself watching you two instead of the game.”

Kimmy blew him a kiss.

---

With less than two minutes left, the game was tied.

The tension tightened around the arena—every pass, every shot holding the weight of the night.

Then suddenly—

A breakout.

A 2-on-1 rush.

Brad was on his feet instantly.

Barkov carried down the right side, dipped his shoulder—the defender bit.

The puck slid through—

Right onto Bennett’s stick.

He fired.

Top shelf.

The arena exploded.

Brad completely lost himself—jumping, spinning, arms flailing.

“BENNY! BENNY! BENNY!”

Mark caught Kimmy’s eye, rolling his eyes with a grin.

“You couldn’t script it better!” she shouted.

---

The final horn sounded.

“PANTHERS WINNNNN!”

Brad clung to the glass as they waited for the stars.

“BOBBY! BOBBY!” he chanted with the crowd.

“Second star—Barkov!”

“Mom! MOM! That’s your favorite!”

Then—

“And tonight’s number one star…Number 9…SAM BENNETT!”

Brad erupted again.

“BENNY! BENNY! BENNY!”

When Bennett finally disappeared down the tunnel, Brad turned to Mark, his face glowing.

“Cool.”

---

They hadn’t even cleared the parking lot before he was asleep.

His cap tilted sideways, head slumped gently forward.

Mark and Kimmy talked quietly on the drive back, replaying moments, laughing softly.

At the hotel, Kimmy carefully lifted Brad into her arms, carrying him inside while Mark handled the car.

Upstairs, Mark opened the sofa bed.

“Let him sleep in the jersey,” he said. “He’s out.”

Kimmy nodded, tucking him in gently.

---

Kimmy nodded and began to tuck him in.  Mark walked into the bedroom and quickly changed into his sweats and t-shirt and turned off the light.  Kimmy appeared in the door and Mark said softly, “Oh sorry baby, need the light?”

Kimmy whispered, “No, the moonlight is good.  I’ll be in – give me a minute.”

Mark was watching the post-game interviews on his phone when Kimmy crawled into bed.  She put her head on his chest and her hand over his heart.

“Good time baby?” she asked softly.  Mark pushed pause on the video and smiled seeing her bright eyes. 

“It was the best.  I’m so geared up, I won’t get to sleep for quite a while I don’t think.”

“Good” came a slightly devilishly soft reply. 

“OK honey, I’ll rub your back.” Mark said.  He reached under the sheets but instead of finding the soft fabric of the shirt he felt Kimmy’s smooth skin.

“Honey….um, did you….”

Kimmy snuggled closer and said, “There’s still an hour left before midnight….and it IS Thursday.  I’m not ready for sleep either.”

The sounds of the ocean drifted through the open door, the ceiling fan turning slowly above them.

And in that quiet space, after the noise and light and energy of the night, they found their way back to each other—just as they always did.

With A Little Help From My Friends — Part 1

The first thing Mark became aware of as he drifted awake was the slow, rhythmic hush of the waves outside the open balcony door. The second thing was the feather-light circles being traced across his chest and a soft, tuneless hum that felt more like warmth than sound. His mouth curved into a smile before his eyes even opened.

“Somebody’s in a good mood,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Kimmy lifted her head just enough that her bright eyes found his, the corners of her mouth turning up in a way that made his heart do that familiar little skip.

“Hi baby. Can I tell you something?”

His hand drifted automatically to her hair, smoothing it over her shoulder. “Sure. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours this morning?”

She didn’t answer right away. She watched him, eyes searching his, like she was making sure he was really there. Another beat passed. And then, barely louder than a whisper, she said, “Yesterday… was T-H-E best day. From start to finish. The best day we’ve ever had.”

Mark’s hand paused against her back, his brow softening. “It was, wasn’t it?”

Kimmy pushed herself up on her elbows, animated now, words tumbling out in a rush. “No — not just the best, I mean the very best. It had everything. I woke up and you had the email from Viking — so that’s still alive. Then the beach… and lunch at the arena, watching Brad light up like that? And the way you talked him into a nap without him even realizing it — that was parenting genius. Then the game… God, if you’d written it in a book nobody would believe it. And then last night…” She dropped her voice. “…that was the perfect ending.”

Mark leaned in and kissed her softly. “Want to know the best part for me?”

Kimmy’s heart gave that tiny flutter it always did when she saw that look on his face. “Tell me,” she whispered.

“You,” he said simply.

Her eyes glistened. “Why?”

He traced lazy patterns up and down her back, his voice low. “Because everything you just said? All yes. All perfect. But every single moment — the beach, the arena, the game — I wasn’t just living it. I was watching you. Watching you be happy. Every moment. And that… seeing you that happy all day long… that was the best part.”

Her throat tightened. “I love you so much. You know that, right?”

He brushed his forehead to hers. “And I—”

“Dad… DAD… my headphones died! And I’m hungry!”

Bare feet thudded across the floor, and a miniature hockey player appeared in the doorway — jersey wrinkled from sleeping in it, hair sticking up in every direction, ball cap slightly crooked.

“I slept in my jersey, Mom. See? Cool.”

Mark and Kimmy dissolved into soft laughter.

---

Mark grabbed the beach bag while Brad hovered near the door, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. Kimmy pulled her hair into a ponytail, then touched Mark’s arm.

“Promise me,” she said quietly, eyes serious. “Stay out of the sun today.”

Mark smiled. “There’s that look again.”

Kimmy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t mess with me.”

He chuckled. “I promise. Go have fun with Gina. We’ll get lunch after, and then we’ll relax before the big dinner tonight. Jeff said Pam and Bob are coming too.”

“I love those guys,” Kimmy said, warmth in her voice. “Okay. Have fun, you two.”

“Dad, come on!” Brad called, already tugging at the door.

The morning slipped by easily. The boys claimed their stretch of sand — Mark settled into the shade with Brad’s army of action figures while Kimmy and Gina wandered the sprawling corridors of Sawgrass Mills, lost in racks of dresses and laughter.

By just after noon, Brad was sprawled on the hotel bed with his iPad, already halfway into a cartoon. Kimmy stepped out onto the balcony where Mark leaned against the rail, the ocean breeze lifting the edges of his shirt. He held out a Coke Zero.

“Cheers to a perfect weekend,” she said, tapping her glass against his.

They stood like that, not speaking for a while, just listening to the ocean and feeling the air brush their skin. Kimmy glanced up and saw the shift in his expression — a small crease in his brow, a faraway look.

“Baby?” she said softly. “What are you thinking? Talk to me.”

Mark’s mouth curved, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We promised no secrets. And I wanted to wait until the little man was distracted.”

Kimmy’s stomach dipped. “Tell me.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he said quickly. “Brad didn’t even notice — he was buried in his guys in the sand. But I… I had an episode this morning.”

Kimmy’s grip tightened around his arm. “Oh no… are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, reassuring. “It passed in a couple minutes. I just focused on the ocean. Thought about you. And it went away.”

Her breath hitched. She pressed her forehead to his chest and held him tight. “I hate that you have to go through that. But I’m so glad you told me.”

He lifted her chin. “Believe me, I don’t want to face the consequences if I don’t.”

She managed a watery smile. “Good answer.”

She studied his face again. “There’s more, though. I can feel it.”

Mark turned back toward the ocean. “I was thinking… since that day on the path — the day you whispered that you were pregnant — there’s been a lot. A lot.”

Kimmy exhaled slowly. “So many good things. Brad has been…” Her voice broke, then steadied. “…so wonderful.”

Mark nodded. “But also… some hard things. And today I just kept thinking — not many couples are like us. Good or bad… we just… make it work.”

His fingers found her bracelet, rubbing gently over the silver letters — the U and the S — and the ruby nestled between them.

Kimmy’s arms slipped around his neck. “On that first terrace, when I asked you to stay for another drink… the very first thing that came into my head was hoping maybe there could be an us. Maybe a life.”

He leaned his forehead to hers. “Who would’ve thought that little spark would grow into this? I never imagined I could be this happy. And I never thought that making someone else happy could matter this much.”

Kimmy looked out over the beach and then turned back to Mark.  “This is going to sound kind of weird, but something I’ve thought about some times….don’t be mad.”

Mark chuckled, “Honey, seriously….at you?  What is it?”

Kimmy looked out again and said softly, “In a strange way, I’m glad you had your accident….”

Mark’s eyes widened, “OK, that is interesting….why?”

Kimmy looked back and Mark instantly felt the deep emotion in Kimmy’s voice.  “Because we committed after that to be all in…..US first.  We’d always had the best relationship, but we’ve taken it to a whole other level.”

Mark held Kimmy’s gaze and whispered, “So special….”

Kimmy smiled slowly, a mischievous glint returning. “And besides… that accident started our Tuesday-Thursday thing. And that — as your son would say — is pretty cool.”

With A Little Help From My Friends — Part 2

Brad rode quietly in the back seat, completely absorbed in the glow of his iPad, the headphones that had spent half the day charging now resting comfortably over his ears. His legs swung gently, heels bumping the seat in a slow, absent-minded rhythm. Kimmy glanced back at him and smiled, taking in the sight of their little boy in his crisp navy short-sleeve button-down and clean white shorts.

“Isn’t our little man so handsome?” she said softly. “Just like his Daddy.”

Mark’s hand found her thigh in an easy, familiar gesture. “Not nearly as pretty as his Momma. You look adorable in that jumper. The yellow picks up the highlights in your hair, and the navy… that just makes it pop.”

Kimmy flipped down the visor and studied herself in the mirror. “Should I wear my hair up or down? I swear, I never know what to do with my hair.”

Mark smiled, slow and warm. “That’s not a fair question. You’re beautiful no matter what you do. But… with that halter neckline? If you pull it back, it shows your shoulders. Your skin has that beach glow. I like that look on you.”

Kimmy tilted her head one way, then the other, gathering her hair experimentally. “Of course that’s just a suggestion,” she teased.

“Of course,” Mark echoed, trying not to grin.

Kimmy laughed, pulled a hair tie from her purse, and swept her hair back, the movement practiced and effortless. She checked herself one last time, then turned. “But I’ve decided the ponytail wins.  Good?”

Mark let his gaze drift over her slowly, deliberately. “I’ll just say this… I’m really sorry it’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday.”

Kimmy blushed, her cheeks warming. “Stop. Who even keeps track of days? It’s any day we want it to be.” Her voice dipped into something softer. Something only for him.

---

The moment Mark opened the restaurant door, a booming voice carried across the room.

“MARK! How the hell are you?”

Kimmy’s laugh came out in a soft burst, and she squeezed his arm. “Who else?” Mark muttered under his breath.

Jeff crossed the room in two long strides and wrapped Mark in a bear hug that nearly lifted him off his feet. He turned to Kimmy next, kissing her cheek with the kind of affectionate ease that only years of friendship can carry. Then he crouched down, hand extended.

“And you must be Brad. Hey buddy, did you see Sam Bennett’s goal the other night? He’s something, isn’t he?”

Brad straightened with immediate seriousness. “We were there,” he said proudly. “I wore my Benny jersey. And I had a whole cookie.”

Jeff’s eyebrows rose in mock awe. “A whole cookie? Well then you had yourself a night.”

Brad folded his arms with solemn authority. “It was just cool.”

Gina was up next, enveloping Kimmy in a hug. “Hi honey. I had such a great time shopping today. Thanks for dragging me along.”

Jeff turned to Mark with a grin. “I hope your credit card didn’t take the hit mine did.”

Bob stepped in, shaking Mark’s hand firmly. “Good to see you, man. Hi Kimmy, you look great.”

Kimmy smiled and gently guided Brad forward. “Bob, this is Brad. Brad, this is Mr. Bob. He’s known your Daddy a long time. Even before I did.”

Brad’s eyes widened. “Dad hasn’t always known you? Wow.”

Pam leaned down, taking both of Brad’s hands in hers. “Hi Brad. You look so much like your Mom.”

Brad studied her, then Kimmy, then answered with absolute sincerity. “But her hair is a lot longer than mine, Miss Pam.”

Kimmy covered her mouth to stifle her laughter. Mark and Jeff didn’t even try.

Jeff gestured toward the table. “Alright, everybody sit. Kimmy, you’re by me. Mark, you’re next to Chloe so you can catch up. Brad gets the middle — the place of honor.”

The evening filled itself with stories, the kind that only come out when friends haven’t been together in a while. Laughter rolled across the table in waves, punctuated by the occasional playful groan when someone told a familiar story. But the mood softened when Kimmy began telling the story of Mark’s accident.

Jeff’s expression sobered. “But you’re okay now, right?”

Mark nodded. “No lasting damage, thank God. Kimmy… she handled everything. Set the rules, kept me in line.”

Pam wiped her eyes gently. “We had no idea. I’m so sorry you went through that.”

Mark nodded toward Kimmy’s purse, and she pulled out a small stack of neatly folded papers.

Jeff’s voice boomed. “There they are! The picks for tomorrow. Been waiting for these.”

Mark handed out the sheets, one by one. Chloe accepted hers with a bright smile. “Thank you, Mr. Mark. I’ll take Brad whenever you two say he’s ready tomorrow.”

Mark squeezed her shoulder. “Can’t thank you enough.”

Brad leaned forward, cheeks puffed with mashed potatoes. “Hi Chloe,” he mumbled around a mouthful. “We play tomorrow, okay?”

Chloe laughed. “We sure will, buddy.”

Brad swallowed, nodded, and said with absolute approval, “Cool, Chloe.”

Outside, the parking lot lights cast a warm glow as hugs and handshakes made their rounds, plans for tomorrow confirmed with a mixture of excitement and playful warnings about bringing enough cash.

By the time they were on the road, Brad’s eyelids were already losing the battle. His head tipped sideways, and within minutes he was out.

Mark’s phone chimed once. Then three more times.

“Can you check those?” he asked. “Probably the group.”

Kimmy opened his messages. A smile tugged at her lips.

“First one’s from Chloe. She says, ‘Brad is adorable. I’m excited to hang out with him tomorrow. And Miss Kimmy looked beautiful tonight.’”

Kimmy blushed. “She’s so sweet. I can’t believe some guy let her go.”

Mark frowned slightly. “Jeff said she was serious with someone earlier this year, but he ended things. No idea why.”

Kimmy scrolled. “Pam says, ‘You guys look great. Brad is the spitting image of his Mom. Hope we get rich tomorrow.’ And Gina says… ‘Brad is so handsome. I heard Jeff teasing about the shopping. Did Kimmy tell you how much—’”

Mark’s head snapped toward her. “What?”

Kimmy patted his arm. “Eyes on the road, mister. That’s a conversation for another day.”

“One more,” she added. “Jeff says, ‘Love you man. Can’t wait for tomorrow.’”

Mark let out a long breath, the kind filled with history and gratitude.

“You’ve got the best friends,” Kimmy murmured. “I still…”

Mark reached for her hand. “Don’t. I’ll never forget you crying in that parking lot after the Derby because you were worried about pulling me away from them. But I made the best choice I ever made when I chose you. When I chose us.”

Kimmy leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. “Best choice ever.”

The moon hung high as they pulled into the resort, silver light shimmering across the ocean. The day settled gently into night, calm and content — the quiet before tomorrow’s bright chaos.

Tomorrow, the Derby awaited.

5 – Let The Big Horse Run

The anticipation of Derby Day seemed to hum in the air before a single word was spoken that morning. Even Brad could feel it, though he didn’t quite understand it—something about the way his parents moved, the energy between them, the way everything felt just a little more important today.

Kimmy laid out Brad’s outfit carefully, smoothing the fabric with her hands before stepping back to admire it. Then she turned her attention to her own dress, giving it a thoughtful once-over before glancing toward Mark.

“Let me see your jacket, baby,” she said as Mark pulled it from the hanger.

He held it up casually. “It’s fine, honey. By the time we get there—”

“Oh no…this will never do,” Kimmy interrupted, already reaching for it. “Look at these wrinkles. Absolutely not. I will NOT have my handsome man—who will be the center of attention—show up looking like that. Hand it over, mister.”

Mark sighed, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him as he surrendered the jacket. “Yes ma’am.”

He turned toward Brad. “You good, buddy? Want a snack before we leave?”

Brad didn’t even look up from his iPad, simply lifting his thumb into the air. “All cool, Dad.”

Kimmy returned the freshly pressed jacket and gave her dress one final adjustment before disappearing into the bathroom. A few minutes later the door cracked open.  “Ready to check me out? Be honest,” she called.

Mark turned—and as always, the breath caught in his chest.  There it was again. That moment. That feeling.

The light gray dress fell just high enough above her knees to catch the eye without ever crossing the line. The neckline dipped just enough to frame her necklace perfectly, the splash of pink and black woven into the fabric giving it just the right amount of bold contrast. Her hair fell naturally around her shoulders, soft and effortless.

Mark let out a low whistle. “You are so… so beautiful, honey. No fascinator?”

Kimmy shook her head, a small pout forming. “Just didn’t love how it looked. You okay with just my hair like this?”

Mark stepped forward, sliding his arms around her waist. She rose on her toes and met him halfway as he kissed her softly.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured. “In all ways. Let’s get the little man ready.”

---

The moment they stepped into the box overlooking the finish line, the full spectacle of Derby Day opened up in front of them. The grandstand buzzed with energy—bright dresses, bold hats, laughter drifting through the air, the low murmur of odds and predictions mixing with the distant thundering rhythm of hooves.

Mark handed his phone to Jeff. “Mind grabbing one of us?”

Jeff grinned. “Of course.”

The three of them stood together, Mark’s arm around Kimmy, Kimmy’s hand resting lightly on Brad’s shoulder. Brad looked up just enough to give a serious smile for the photo.

Mark’s smile stretched wide as Jeff handed the phone back. “Look at us.”

Kimmy leaned in, her smile softening. “That’s perfect.”

Brad tugged at her dress. “Mom… MOM… let me see.” He peered at the screen. “…cool.”

They settled into their seats—Mark and Kimmy in the front row, Jeff and Gina just beside them. Brad slid into the seat behind, already deep in conversation with Chloe, his hands flying as he recounted every second of the hockey game. Chloe matched his energy effortlessly, laughing, reacting, leaning in as if every word he said was the most important story she’d ever heard.

Mark turned slightly. “Hey buddy, want to go see the horses?”

Brad was already halfway out of his seat. “Yeah!”

He grabbed Chloe’s hand without hesitation. “Come on, Chloe. Let’s go look.”

Kimmy smiled as the four of them made their way down to the paddock. The atmosphere shifted there—quieter, reverent almost—as the horses moved in slow, powerful circles.

Brad’s eyes widened as the first horse passed. “Dad… look how big they are.”

The ground seemed to hum beneath them with each step of the thoroughbreds. Muscles rippled under polished coats, sunlight catching in their manes. When one paused directly in front of them, lowering its head slightly as if acknowledging Brad, he froze.  The horse gave a small nod before moving on.  Brad’s mouth dropped open. “…cool,” he whispered.

Mark squeezed Kimmy’s hand. “I’m going to make my bet.”

Kimmy nodded. “We’ll head back up. Come on, honey.”

Chloe hesitated, then touched Mark’s arm. “Can you show me how to bet? I’d like to try.”

“Of course,” Mark said.

Inside the Silks Simulcast Center, the air buzzed with focused excitement. Screens flickered, voices overlapped, tickets printed in quick succession. Chloe pushed her sunglasses up on her head as Mark opened his program.

“Which one do you like?” he asked.

She pointed. “Your horse. The six.”

Mark nodded and explained.  “We’ll bet with my favorite teller, Karen.  Tell her, Gulfstream-Race 1-how much you are betting-and then to win on number 6.”  The attractive teller patiently waited for Chloe and then punched in the number and a ticket came out.  They exchanged the money for the ticket and Chloe beamed. 

At the window, Karen smiled as Chloe’s face lit up.  “My first one.” she said as she examined the ticket.

Mark made his own bet and nodded toward Karen. “First time.”

Karen grinned. “Picture?”  Chloe nodded and they held up their tickets both with big smiles while Karen took the shot.  As they stepped away, Chloe’s expression softened.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

She hesitated, then spoke quietly. “I broke up with my boyfriend recently. I thought… I don’t know… I thought he was it.”

Mark’s hand rested gently on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, honey.”

She nodded. “I watch my parents—they’re great. But when I see you and Miss Kimmy… there’s just something different. You can feel it. How do you know when you’ve found that?”

Mark smiled, the memory warming him. “We didn’t know at first. We were just friends. Then one night… something shifted. It just felt right.”

Chloe tilted her head. “So you had no idea?”

“None,” he said. “Just be open. Take chances. You never know what moment might change everything.”

Chloe hugged him softly. “Thank you.”

---

The day unfolded in bursts of excitement. Winners came, near misses followed, laughter echoed through the box. Each win brought cheers, and each time Kimmy squeezed Mark’s arm with pride.

By the fifth race, Brad leaned forward eagerly. “Can I pick one, Dad?”

Kimmy chuckled. “Here we go. Just like his Daddy, going to be a horse player – look what you’ve started.”

Mark nodded. “Alright, tell me which one.”

He called out the names as the horses paraded past. When the number nine horse appeared, Mark paused.  He turned the program to Kimmy.  Kimmy’s hand flew to her mouth. “No way.”

“Who’s that one?” Brad asked.

Mark smiled. “His name is Bennyjetz.”

Brad jumped. “Benny! That one!”  Kimmy leaned over and said, “How did you miss that one?”  Mark pointed to the tote board, “He’s 30-to-1, I skipped right over him…he doesn’t have a chance.” 

Brad tugged his sleeve. “Can I pick him?”

Mark nodded. “I’ll be right back.”  Mark returned and handed the ticket to Brad, “Hold it tight buddy.”  Brad nodded solemnly as the horses went into the gate.  The crowd roared as the gate sprung open and the eleven thoroughbreds burst past the finish line for the first time.  “GOOOO BENNY!” yelled Brad.  “Dad, why is he all the way in the back?”  Kimmy chuckled and Mark said over his shoulder, “He’s just not very fast buddy, but the race has a long way to go.”  When the field hit the far turn they were tightly bunched except for the gray #9 who trailed.  But suddenly he began to hit full stride and began picking off runners.  By mid-stretch he’d moved to fourth and had a full head of steam.  Kimmy stood, gripping Mark’s arm. “Oh my gosh… he’s coming!”

Brad bounced wildly. “GO BENNY!”

The finish came in a blur.  “Who won?” Brad gasped.  “Photo finish,” Mark said, pointing to the big screen over the tote board.  Like a carefully orchestrated ballet, the large screen showed three horses taking one step at a time, when their hoofs lifted they were literally airborne.  And right on the wire, it was the gray nose that was in front.  Mark looked at Kimmy, his eyes wide.  Kimmy’s grin nearly broke her face and Mark said, “You WON buddy.”  Brad screamed, “YAY BENNY!  Dad….DAD do I get some money?”  Mark and Kimmy exchanged glances and Kimmy looked at the board.  “Does that say 40-to-1?”  Mark nodded.  He turned slowly and raised his hands.  “Everyone….I want you to know that MY SON, our Brad just picked an EIGHTY DOLLAR winner!”  Everyone cheered loudly.  Chloe kissed the top of Brad’s head as he crossed his arms and said proudly, “COOL.”

Following the races the entire group sat around a large table at the Yardhouse restaurant reliving the day.  As the plates were cleared Jeff’s loud voice boomed, “Let’s do a recap for the record.  Our main man Mark came through again today.  SIX winners on the day including the Derby winner.  If you bet with him, you’re nearly $50 richer now!”  Cheers rang out and Kimmy leaned over and kissed Mark’s cheek.  Mark waved off the praise with a big smiled.  “But….” Jeff continued, “…the number one star of the day has to go to our little handicapper Brad who had the big winner on the day.  Well done Brad!”  Applause broke out.

Brad, mid-bite of a chicken nugget, raised his hands triumphantly.

In the parking lot, hugs lingered a little longer. Chloe hugged Kimmy, then Mark.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Brad wrapped himself around her legs. “Bye Chloe.”

As they pulled away, the Pegasus statue stood silhouetted against the setting sun.  Inside the car, the air was quiet but full—of laughter, of memory, of something deeper.  The day had been everything.

And tomorrow would bring whatever came next.

Your Love Is My Home – Part 1

Mark slipped carefully out of bed, moving with practiced quiet as he dressed in the dim early light. He turned off the bedroom lamp and had just reached the doorway when a low, playful growl rose from behind him.

“Grrrrrr…why did you leave me…”

He smiled instantly, turning back. Kimmy hadn’t opened her eyes, but the faint curl of her lips gave her away. Mark sat gently on the edge of the bed and leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“I was once asked,” he said quietly, “what a girl has to do to get her morning puzzle and coffee…and I’m just fulfilling that wish, my sweet.”

Kimmy lifted her head just enough to give him a mock pout before stretching up to kiss him lightly.

“Fine,” she murmured, “…but you’d better hurry back and deliver it before I’m dressed. Now scoot, mister.”

Mark gave her a crisp little salute, grinning, and slipped out into the hall.

---

The cool morning air hit him as he stepped out of the car at Wawa, and almost immediately he spotted Allan leaning casually against his truck, coffee in hand, a wide grin already waiting.

“Hey! Welcome back, Dude! How was it? Loved the pics on Facebook.”

Mark laughed, joining him as they walked inside shoulder to shoulder, falling into the easy rhythm of a hundred mornings just like this. He filled two cups, tucked the newspaper under his arm, and together they headed back out into the lot as Mark began recounting the weekend.

By the time they reached Allan’s truck, Allan was shaking his head in disbelief.

“So you’re telling me,” he said, “that not only did Brad’s hero Sam Bennett score the game-winner and get named number one star…but Brad picked a horse named Bennyjetz that paid over eighty bucks?”

Mark chuckled, holding his coffee and paper.  “All true, brother. Every bit of it.”

Allan let out a low whistle. “Pull up that Derby picture.”

Mark scrolled quickly and passed his phone over. Allan studied it for a moment, nodding.

“Dude…you look great. Kimmy—stunning as always. And Brad…” he handed the phone back with a grin, “…he’s so you guys.”

---

Mark eased through the front door balancing both coffees, the newspaper tucked under his arm, when the quiet was shattered by the rapid thunder of little sneakers.

“Dad! DAD…look!”

Brad skidded into the room, waving a handful of printed photos.

“Mom printed these so I can show my teacher! The game—and the races. Cool, right?”

Mark laughed, shifting the coffees carefully.

“Let me put your Mom’s coffee and puzzle down first, buddy.”

Brad nodded seriously, then added, “You paid for that, right Dad? You pay for stuff Mom wants, don’t you?”

Mark glanced up just in time to catch Kimmy leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, smiling at the exchange. He set everything down, took the photos, and nodded.

“Yes, buddy. Dad buys everything Momma wants. Very important that Momma’s happy.”

Brad’s head bobbed enthusiastically.

“That’s cool, Dad.”

He snatched the pictures back almost immediately and darted off toward the living room, grabbing his backpack on the way.

“Got school! Gotta go! Come on Mom—I can’t be late. Jillian’s waiting!”

---

Moments later, the house fell quiet again as the car pulled away. Mark stood in the doorway, watching, a soft smile lingering as he waved.

Then, slowly, he turned back inside.

He gathered his laptop and made his way to the porch, settling into his chair as the creek moved steadily beyond the rail. For a long moment, he didn’t open the computer. He just sat there, letting the weekend replay in his mind—the laughter, the game, the races…Kimmy’s voice on the balcony, soft and certain.

His eyes widened slightly.

An idea.

He flipped open the laptop, created a new folder, and paused just long enough before typing its name:

US

And then he began.

---

That evening, with Brad tucked in and the house wrapped in its familiar calm, Mark and Kimmy sat curled together on the sofa watching The Voice. As the credits rolled, Kimmy reached up and gently guided Mark’s face toward hers, her eyes dancing with mischief.

“I have a little surprise I think you’re going to like…well, no—scratch that. I know you’ll like it.”

Mark raised an eyebrow.

“Do you now? And I assume this is not a suggestion, but simply the way it’s going to be?”

Kimmy’s brows lifted.

“Are you getting senile in your old age, mister? You make suggestions…the plans are mine. Let’s be clear.”

Mark laughed softly.

“Of course, baby. So what’s this brilliant plan?”

Kimmy shifted, sitting cross-legged to face him, already gathering speed.

Kimmy sat up and crossed her legs so she faced Mark, “Well….so you know what tomorrow is, right, it’s Tuesday, well of course you know it’s Tuesday, you look forward to Tuesday as much as I do, well nobody could enjoy that more than me, but anyway, it IS Tuesday and you know Sally knows all about our, well, our…uh plans.  And Sally said to me,” Kimmy’s hands were flying in every direction and her hair was waving first off the shoulder then on and then briefly across the side of her face until she’d brush it behind her ears, “…..and she said, and I was so surprised, but I guess I shouldn’t be because Sally and I tell each other everything – and I mean everything….wouldn’t you like to know what we talk about, but she said, and she had this big grin on her face but she was dead serious….at least I think she was serious…well of course she was serious because we agreed on it, but anyway—”

Mark leaned back, laughing already.

“—Sally is picking up Brad tomorrow morning so we can have our morning.”

She stopped, beaming.

“Isn’t that, as your son would say…cool?”

Mark laughed out loud.

“I caught…most of that. But the takeaway is—we have alone time tomorrow morning?”

Kimmy tilted her head.

“Didn’t I just say that?”

Mark leaned in and kissed her softly.

“You did. And yes…that’s very cool.”

---

The next morning unfolded just as promised.

Mark headed out to Wawa after a quick kiss goodbye, leaving Kimmy in her light blue shorty shorts pajamas as she finished getting Brad ready. When he returned, she was already waiting—cross-legged on the couch, arms extended like a queen expecting tribute.

“Gimmee…gimmee. A girl needs her coffee before she can have the energy for playtime.”

Mark grinned, handing it over before picking up his laptop.

“I’m working on something. You tell me when you’re ready.”

He paused, turning back with a smirk.

“And for the record—I am ready.”

Kimmy giggled as he stepped out onto the porch.

It wasn’t ten minutes later before the door cracked open and her head popped out.

“Enough fooling around—well, actually, you can never have enough fooling around—but I’m waiting!”

---

Later that afternoon, the rhythm of routine returned as they sat in the pickup line at Sunrise Academy.

Kimmy hummed softly, then glanced over.  “Have I ever told you how much I love you, baby?”  Mark looked up from his phone, smiling.

“You have. But I never get tired of hearing it.”  She sighed contentedly.

“I love our life…right?”

Mark started to answer when his phone chimed. He glanced down, curiosity flickering.

“Oh…”

“What?” Kimmy asked.

He turned the phone toward her, then back again.  “Email from MacKenzie at Viking. Wants to set up a video chat Friday.”  Kimmy frowned slightly.

“But that’s our date night. Sandy’s already scheduled.”

Mark squinted at the screen, moving it closer, then farther away.  “I’m pretty sure it says she wants to talk at about 11 am our time.  Can you read this?” Mark passed his phone over.

Kimmy looked and handed it back, “Sorry honey, did you not bring your readers?  Yes it says eleven.”

Mark grumbled, “I don’t need those things unless I want to use them.  Well that makes sense because that would be late afternoon for them.  You good to go with that?”

Kimmy smiled and patted Mark’s arm, “What ever you want honey.”

The door flew open, “Mom….MOM.  Oh hi Dad.  MOM….guess what!  We had pizza today.  We NEVER have pizza except on Friday, well it wasn’t really pizza, it was like a pizza on a big piece of bread and you didn’t have to have it if you didn’t want, I mean I thought about the nuggets, but I always get the nuggets….well I always get pizza too, but I never get pizza on any day but Friday and today’s not Friday, or is it?  No it’s not because there’s a game tonight, right Dad, the Panthers play tonight, and the pizza was good even though it wasn’t really real pizza…..what are you guys looking at?  Are we going home or what?”

Mark and Kimmy sat frozen, mouths open trying to keep up with Brad’s train of thought.  Kimmy said, “Oh, uh yes, we are heading home honey.”  Mark muttered just loud enough for Kimmy to hear, “So SO you.”

Your Love Is My Home – Part 2

Mark paced slowly along the porch, his Wawa coffee cooling in his hand, barely touched. Every few steps he would stop, rest his hands on the railing, and look out over the creek as it moved steadily past, as if the rhythm of the water might help him settle his own thoughts. He drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out slowly—trying to organize the swirl in his head about the upcoming video meeting with Viking TV.

The screen door creaked open just as he turned at the far end of the porch.  Kimmy stepped out, pausing as she watched him reverse direction again, her brow knitting slightly.

“What are you doing, baby?”

Mark gave her a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Just…can’t stop thinking about the Viking thing today.”

He reached the other end again, pivoted, and started back, the quiet nervous energy carrying him. Kimmy crossed the porch in a few soft steps and gently took his arm, stopping him mid-stride.

“Hey…” she said softly, her voice lowering as she slipped into his space, “…hey, look at me.”

Mark stopped. His eyes met hers—and just like that, the tension in his face eased. He shook his head slightly, a reluctant smile forming.

“That’s really not fair.”

Kimmy’s lips curved into a knowing grin as she slipped her arms up around his neck.

“Now what isn’t fair, baby? Tell me. Because I’m telling you—this is all going to go just fine. And besides…” she tilted her head slightly, “…we already decided we’re comfortable not doing the Viking thing, right?”

Mark leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against hers.

“It’s just not fair that you look at me like that and my whole world just…stops. I can’t even be anxious when you do that. How do you do that?”

He let out a quiet breath.

“And you’re right. We’re comfortable. Still…”

Kimmy rose up onto her toes and kissed him softly, lingering just a second longer than necessary.

“I do my thing,” she whispered, “you do your thing…we do our thing. It’s what we’ve always been able to do.”

They stayed there for a moment, wrapped together, before easing apart and drifting side by side to the railing. They leaned against it, shoulders touching, eyes following the gentle movement of the creek below.

Mark took another slow breath.

“Ever since the first time I came here to visit you,” he said quietly, “I’ve found that if I stand out here and look at the water…I can think clearly. A lot of important decisions have been made right here.”

Kimmy nodded, her gaze still outward.

“We have…a lot’s happened on this porch.”

She paused, gathering her thoughts.

“Listen…when you showed me that video up in the mountains, I knew Viking would be interested. I knew it. And if you think back to London—just the discussions, not any of the rest…”

Her voice faltered, just slightly.

Mark felt it instantly. He turned toward her, slipping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in just enough.

“Just you, baby,” he said softly. “Don’t forget that.”

Kimmy lifted her eyes to his, took a steadying breath.

“Right…just us. But the discussions? If you take an objective look…I think they were interested.”

Mark turned back toward the creek, his expression thoughtful again.

“There’s a lot to think about. I don’t want to get our hopes up and be disappointed. And I don’t want to get so excited that we say yes to anything without really thinking it through.”

He paused, his jaw tightening slightly.

“What about Brad? What’s fair with the time…with the money? We can’t just fly all over the world on our own dime because it sounds fun.”

Kimmy tightened her arm around his waist, pressing closer.

“Honey…you don’t have to decide all that right now.”

Her voice softened, steady and sure.

“Remember what you said—we’re happy. Just us. Right here, right now, in this life. There’s no pressure to say yes…or no. And if they do make an offer and we want it…we’ll figure it out.”

She leaned into him.

“We always do. We always find a way.”

Mark turned back toward her, studying her face for a moment before a small smile broke through.

“You know…you’re really something. It’s a little scary sometimes. I used to be Mr. Independent—make all my own decisions.”

He shook his head lightly.

“And now…I lean on you. A lot.”

Kimmy’s grin returned instantly.

“Well…there’s no ‘US’ without ‘U’—get it?”

She giggled, clearly pleased with herself.

“I made a funny joke.”

Mark laughed, the tension finally loosening.

“Don’t quit your day job.”

He nudged her gently.

“Come on. Let’s go tackle the puzzle—I’ll help you.”

---

That afternoon, the nervous energy had found a new outlet.  Mark sat at the table, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm against the wood, his leg bouncing under the chair. Kimmy reached over and placed her hand firmly over his, stilling it.

“Easy, fella,” she said with a soft smile. “Take a breath. Just let it happen. You’ve got this.”  Mark nodded, exhaling, though his leg picked up the rhythm almost immediately.  Kimmy glanced at the laptop screen.

“Here we go.”  The “JOIN NOW” button glowed.  Mark took one more steadying breath, looked at Kimmy, and smiled. Then he clicked.  The screen flickered to life.  David appeared, seated beside a young woman, both smiling warmly.

“Hi Mark, Kimmy! Great to see you again. This is MacKenzie—our new office manager.”

“Hi David,” Mark replied. “Good to see you as well.”

David shifted slightly, his tone turning more measured.

“Listen…before we get started, I want to say I hope everything worked out okay after your visit. And I apologize for…anything—or anyone—that might not have been as expected.”

Mark and Kimmy exchanged a brief glance.  David continued, “One of the first things I asked MacKenzie to do when she came on was to clean up any files that had…let’s call them loose ends.”  Kimmy leaned slightly closer to the screen.

“Hi MacKenzie. We’re really glad you reached out—we’ve been looking forward to this.”

Mark leaned just enough to whisper under his breath,

“Good…open-ended.”

Kimmy squeezed his hand.  David nodded.

“I’ve got to step out, but I’ve left all my notes with MacKenzie. I hope you’re open to hearing what we’ve got in mind. I’ll check back in later. Sound good?”

Mark nodded.  “Sounds great.”  David passed the papers over and stepped out of frame.  MacKenzie leaned forward slightly, her smile easy and genuine.

“Let me start with a little about me. I’m married, and I have a five-year-old daughter—Annie. I believe your son Brad is about the same age?”  Kimmy lit up instantly.  “Yes—that’s our boy. Aren’t kids the best?”  MacKenzie laughed softly.

“Oh, absolutely. My husband Collin and I are completely wrapped around her finger.”  She glanced down at the papers.  “So…based on what we have here, you were initially discussing hosting some Viking TV episodes. Let me walk you through a few options, okay?”

Mark leaned in slightly.  “Yes—we talked in general terms when we were in London. Saw a few examples of the kinds of programs we…we might be interested in.”  MacKenzie nodded, catching the emphasis.

“Right. And as you know, we have a wide range of hosts. We’re currently in discussions with both existing hosts and potential new ones like yourselves.”  Kimmy and Mark exchanged another quick look.

“Sure,” Mark said. “We understand. What do you have in mind?”  MacKenzie lifted the first sheet.

“This is one of our at-home preview formats. The host films from their home—about a thirty-minute overview of a specific itinerary, followed by a Q&A. Given your situation with Brad, this would be a very flexible option.”

Mark nodded.

“I’ve watched those. We usually check them out before we book. That would definitely be easy for us.”

MacKenzie smiled, flipping to the next page.

“I’m guessing you both enjoy traveling?”  Kimmy smiled warmly.  “We do. We’ve had some amazing trips—and we made a promise when Brad was born that we’d find a way to keep doing that.”

Mark added,  “We’ve done Egypt with Viking—hard to leave him, but incredible. And we’ve done some shorter trips with him too.”  MacKenzie lifted another sheet, showing an image of a host in Cologne.

“This is our city-based content. You’d travel to a specific destination, work with a local guide, and film an episode focused on that location.”

Mark studied it.  “I like those…but that’s a long way to go for just a couple days of filming.”

MacKenzie nodded, anticipating it.  “Which is why we group them. Typically a week-long schedule—start in London, prep, then travel to two or three cities to film multiple episodes before returning.”

Kimmy glanced at Mark, then answered.  “I think that’s doable. We’d need to figure out Brad…”

MacKenzie leaned forward slightly, her tone softening.

“I know we just met…but I think we’re similar kinds of moms. If it helps, we’d love to have Brad stay with us. Annie would be thrilled.”

Mark smiled appreciatively.  “That’s incredibly generous. Thank you.”  MacKenzie lifted the final page.

“And this is our full itinerary format. You’d be booked on an actual Viking trip, and our crew would follow you—less scripted, more experiential. It’s really about showing what the journey feels like.”

Mark’s eyes lit up immediately.  “That…sounds amazing.” He glanced at Kimmy.  “Right up our alley.”

Kimmy nodded.  “Absolutely—again, just working out Brad’s schedule.”

MacKenzie smiled, satisfied.  “This has been great. Let me grab David so we can wrap up.”

The screen went momentarily empty.  Kimmy turned to Mark, her voice low and excited.

“What do you think, baby? That sounds pretty incredible.”  Mark nodded slowly.

“It does. We’d figure out Brad—we always do. But…”  He pointed lightly toward the screen.  “They’ve been saying ‘you would’ the whole time. Still not clear if that means both of us…or just one.”

Kimmy’s expression shifted slightly.  “I assumed they meant both of us…”  She paused.  “But you’re right.”

David reappeared.  “Alright—this all went well, I’m glad. Here’s what happens next. We’ll finish our discussions internally and send you a formal offer with specifics—including compensation. No rush on your end.”

Mark nodded.  “We appreciate the opportunity. We’re open to hearing whatever you have.”

“Great,” David said. “You’ll hear from us soon.” He stepped away again.  MacKenzie leaned in one last time, lowering her voice just slightly.

“I can’t promise anything…but I know David really likes you both. I’d be very surprised if you didn’t have multiple options to consider.”  She smiled warmly.  “And I’m serious about Brad. Annie would love him.”

She gave a small wave.  “Talk soon!”  The screen went dark.  Mark exhaled slowly, leaning back.

“Wow…that’s a lot. Still…not specific.”

Kimmy leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.  “We’ll figure it out. But right now…”  She stood, reaching for her bag.  “We have to go get our little boy. And it’s date night.”  Her eyes sparkled.  “We’ve got a lot to talk about tonight.”  She extended her hand.

“Come on—we can’t keep him waiting.”

Your Love Is My Home – Part 3

Mark handed the keys to the valet and, without even thinking about it, offered his arm. Kimmy slipped into it naturally as they walked toward the entrance of the Terrace restaurant, the soft glow from inside spilling out to meet them like a familiar welcome.  The hostess smiled the moment she saw them.

“Welcome back—we’ve got your favorite table ready.”

Mark returned the smile, and a moment later they were being led to the corner booth that had, over time, become theirs. Kimmy slid in beside him instead of across, as she always did, her shoulder brushing his as she settled in.

“This was a great idea,” she said softly, her eyes drifting around the room before landing back on him. “Coming to our terrace place. Usually reserved for anniversaries…but this feels like a big night.”

Mark nodded, glancing out toward the doors that led to the terrace beyond.

“I thought it would feel right. Comfortable. We’ve made a lot of memories here.”

He looked back at her, his expression steady.

“And after tonight…hopefully we’ll have a plan.”

Dinner unfolded the way it always did for them—easy, unhurried, threaded with laughter that came from knowing each other so well. They talked about Brad—his endless chatter, the pictures for school, the way he had lived every second of the weekend like it was the biggest adventure of his life. They relived moments from Florida, replaying the game, the race, the laughter.

Eventually, as it always seemed to, the conversation drifted toward Viking—their past trips, the shared wonder of those experiences, the places they’d seen together.

When the plates were cleared and the last of the wine poured, Mark paid the check and stood, offering his hand.

“Come on.”

Out on the terrace, the night air wrapped around them, cool and calm. The city stretched out below in a wash of lights, quiet and steady. Kimmy stepped close, leaning into him as they rested against the railing.

She exhaled slowly.

“Every time we’re here…it brings me right back to that first terrace in South Florida,” she said softly. “This place would be special anyway…but that memory…” she smiled faintly, “…I love that we get to relive it here.”

Mark’s arm slipped naturally around her bare back, his hand resting warm against her skin. He stood quietly for a moment, looking out over the lights before speaking.

“A lot…a LOT of great memories here.”  He paused.  “But tonight…we talk about what’s next.”  He turned slightly toward her.  “Tell me honestly…what did you think?”

Kimmy didn’t answer right away. She took a slow sip of her wine, letting the moment settle before she spoke.

“I know…” she began carefully, “…and let me finish—I know you’re not going to like this—but you asked what I think.”  She glanced at him.  “I think…no matter what they offer…if it’s just for you…you should take it. And—”

Mark turned immediately.

“We—”

Kimmy lifted a finger, stopping him mid-word, her eyes brightening as she softened her tone.

“You asked what I thought. Let me finish…” she added with a small, almost playful smile. “…pretty please, baby?” Mark chuckled under his breath.

“That is…really, REALLY unfair.”  He shook his head.  “Go ahead.”

Kimmy’s grin widened—she knew she had him.  “Works every time,” she said lightly. Then she steadied herself.

“I agree—it would be amazing for us to do it together. But if they offer something that’s just you…or a mix—something for you, something for us—I think you should do it. We’ll figure it out. Logistically, emotionally…we always do.”  She looked at him fully.

“What do you think?”

Mark turned back toward the city.  For a moment, he didn’t speak. He lifted his glass, took a slow sip, then lowered it again, still watching the lights.  Kimmy didn’t rush him. She just stayed beside him, her presence steady, patient.

Finally, softly—

“Be honest,” she said. “No secrets…remember?”

Mark turned.

His eyes met hers, steady and clear.

“Honestly…” he began, “…as exciting as it sounds…”

He paused, his voice catching just slightly.

“…I don’t want to do it alone.”

Kimmy’s expression softened immediately.

“I think,” he continued, “a few years ago—even after we were married, when you were still working—I might have thought it was cool. And it’s not like this would be constant…”

He shook his head, emotion tightening his voice.

“But now…after everything…”

He looked away, toward the lights again, blinking once.

Kimmy’s heart swelled. She reached up, gently turning his face back to hers, pulling him closer.

“Oh baby…it’s all good now…”

Mark drew in a breath, steadying himself.

“…now I can’t even imagine going somewhere like that…without you. I don’t want to. I don’t want to leave you here and go do something like that alone.”

He shook his head slightly.

“Sorry…but I can’t do it.”

Kimmy’s smile softened into something deeper, warmer. She leaned up and kissed him gently.

“You know how much I love you?” she whispered.

Mark nodded.

“Then let’s agree,” she said quietly. “Only team offers. Only us.”

He nodded without hesitation.

“Always,” he said. “Just US.”

They stood quietly for a moment, letting that settle.  Then Kimmy straightened slightly, her tone shifting just enough.  “Okay…so what about the options?”  Mark turned back toward the city, thinking.

“I know this might sound a little backwards,” he said slowly, “but the simplest one—the at-home hosting…”

Kimmy nodded.  “That would be the easiest.”

Mark shook his head.  “No…what I’m saying is…if we do this, I don’t want that one.”  He turned toward her.

“I get it. It makes sense. But when I think about Viking—about being part of it—I don’t picture us sitting at the kitchen table talking into a camera. I picture…being there.”

Kimmy turned toward the city now, considering it.  After a moment, she nodded.

“You know what…that’s interesting. But I kind of agree.”  She smiled slightly.  “It should feel like something new. Something exciting. Sitting at home…it just doesn’t feel like that.”  She turned back to him.

“So…if that’s the only offer—even for us—we pass?”

Mark smiled.

“Agreed.”

He shook his head slightly, almost in awe.

“We’re always so in sync. I love that about us.”

Kimmy smiled back.

“Me too.  As for the other two…” Mark continued, “…I’d consider either. And I think you’re right—we’d figure out Brad.”  He paused.  “What did you think about MacKenzie’s offer?”

Kimmy’s smile returned, genuine and easy.  “I liked her immediately. I really did. And I think Brad would think it’s an adventure. I think he’d do great.”  She thought for a moment.  “We’d have to work around school…especially next year when he starts at Charlotte Country Day. That’s going to be more structured.”

Mark nodded.

“Yeah.”  He hesitated.  “And the money?”

Kimmy considered that one more carefully.

“I think…we say we’re interested. And then we see what the offer looks like.”  She shrugged slightly.  “Not set hard rules ahead of time—just…see if it works.”

Mark nodded slowly.  “I got the sense…like London…they’d cover most, if not all, of the expenses.”  He smiled faintly.  “Honestly? If they cover expenses…the experience itself feels like more than enough.”

Kimmy nodded immediately.  “Exactly. We’d be traveling anyway. If we get to do that together—even if it’s ‘work’—which it wouldn’t feel like…”  She smiled.  “…then it’s exciting.”

Mark slipped his arms around her again, pulling her in close.

“Okay,” he said softly. “We have a plan.”  Kimmy nodded against him.  “The offer has to be for us,” he continued.

“Always,” she whispered. “Just US.”

“And if it’s only at-home hosting…”

“Then we pass.”

“And the other two—either or both—we’re open…if we can make it work.”

Kimmy smiled brightly.  “We did it,” she said. “We always do, right?”

Mark nodded.  “We always find a way.”

She paused, then tilted her head, her tone shifting again—lighter now, playful.  “Mmmm…I do have one more question before we go.”  Mark raised an eyebrow.

“Anything. What’s on your mind?”

Kimmy leaned in just slightly, her eyes sparkling. 

“You said you were working on something…a surprise.”  She tilted her head, her sweetest, most innocent expression sliding into place.  “Want to share? Pretty please…with sugar on top, baby?”

Mark laughed softly and wagged a finger at her.

“Not gonna work this time, missy. This one’s a surprise. And it’s almost ready.”  He leaned closer.  “Trust me—you’ll be glad I didn’t spoil it.”

Kimmy pouted dramatically, lowering her chin.  “Fine…be that way.”  She paused…then lifted her eyes, mischief dancing again.

“Maybe I’ll have to cancel all Tuesday and Thursday events until I get my surprise…”

Mark gasped, clutching his chest theatrically.

“What the—”

Kimmy broke into a grin.

“But why would I want to punish myself like that?”

She laughed softly.

“Nothing comes between those.”

She slipped her arm back through his.

“Come on—Sandy needs to get home. She’s got that big exam.”

They lingered one last moment at the railing, finishing their wine.  The air felt different now.  Calmer.  Settled.

And somewhere beneath it all…just a hint of something new.  Something waiting.  Maybe even something wonderful.  And whatever it was—they would meet it the only way they ever had.

Together.