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“Guess where I am?” he asked.
“Where?”
“On the beach in Caracas. Missing the hell out of you and drinking our drink.”
“What’s our drink?”
“You don’t remember?”
“No?”
“Caipirinha. It may not be Brazil, but it’s a popular drink here, too.”
“Oh yes! Our drink from Rio. Say it again in your Portuguese accent, Captain.”
“Caipirinha.”
“Mmm.”
“I miss that little moan. You’re making me hard.”
“Hopefully, you’ll get to hear it again soon in person.”
“I’m living for the promise of that, baby.”
I ENDED UP TAKING Carter’s advice and staying for a few days at a hotel in Plano. It helped to get away from my mother and her strong opinions on the matter.
I knew in my heart what I wanted. I wanted a life with Carter, but would I agree to let him get me pregnant, or should I just abandon the inheritance altogether?
Why couldn’t I have it both ways—Carter and the money? It almost seemed like that was too good to be true, like it was too simple of a decision. At the same time, it felt like I would always be waiting for the other shoe to drop under that scenario. Nothing is perfect in life.
I’d stopped at one of the outdoor shopping plazas near my hotel for some ice cream and sat on a bench outside of one of the stores. I needed a sign from God.
Please give me a sign that the decision in my heart is the right one.
I continued to stare into space as I licked around the circumference of the ice cream over and over, forming smooth lines around the ball of soft serve.
When I got up to throw away the last of the cone, I looked up. Staring me in the face was a gigantic advertisement for baby clothes. It featured a large, chubby baby boy with rolls of fat on his legs. He looked exactly like the baby picture of Carter that he’d shown me. My heart seemed to expand with every second that I stared at the baby’s joyful smile. If this weren’t a sign, I didn’t know what was. In fact, I couldn’t think of a better one if I tried. That is, until I looked up at the name of the children’s clothing store.
Carter’s.
I WAS FOLDING MY purchases from the day when my cell phone rang. Frank Sinatra’s Come Fly with Me made me smile from ear to ear. I’d changed Carter’s ringtone after hearing that song in the car this afternoon. Another big sign. I couldn’t recall ever hearing that on the radio. Maybe on my grandfather’s CD player, but definitely not on any station I listened to. Yet today, there it was.
After throwing out my ice cream cone, I’d wandered into Carter’s to look around. It was honestly only the second time I’d ventured into a children’s clothing store. The first was for my cousin Harper who got pregnant when she was eighteen by her thirty-nine-year-old, married college professor. Us Sparks’ high society women truly were all smoke and mirrors.
“Hey, handsome,” I answered.
“You sound better than when I spoke to you this afternoon.”
I sighed. “I feel better, actually.”
“Any particular reason? Not that I’m complaining. But I’d like to know what it took to turn your mood around. Store that in my mind for a day that I might need it again.”
“It was you, actually.”
“Go on. I’m liking the sound of this story so far.”
I laughed. “Well…today I was doing some heavy thinking. And let’s just say that there were some ways that you were present with me.” I folded the little outf
