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
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.
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.”
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 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.”
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.”
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?”
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.”
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.
Mark started to answer when his
phone chimed. He glanced down, curiosity flickering.
“Oh…”
“What?” Kimmy asked.
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.
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.”
He let out a quiet breath.
“And you’re right. We’re
comfortable. Still…”
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.
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.”
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.”
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.”
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.
“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.”
“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.”
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…”
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.”
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.”
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 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.”
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—”
Kimmy lifted a finger, stopping
him mid-word, her eyes brightening as she softened her tone.
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.
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 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.”
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…”
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.
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