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“It’s too cold, Will. Don’t open the door,” I beg.
He holds me tighter. “You’ll survive.”
“My nipples will break off. How will you explain that at the hospital?”
“Trust me. I would never put your nipples at risk. Close your eyes.”
“Fine.” I relax again and let him open the door without struggling. But the cold, wet December air I was expecting doesn’t hit me. I sneak a peek with one squinty eye and see a glass roof overhead. “Will, what is this?” Both eyes are wide open now.
He drops me to my feet and I feel heat. The ground isn’t dirt or wet grass, it’s polished concrete and it’s warm. We’re in an enclosed tunnel that connects to—
“A greenhouse? You built me an entire greenhouse?” I squeal and rush into a large room that’s made entirely of glass and metal, stand at the entrance and look around in awe. Will has brought in several dozen plants that sit on chrome potting tables. I listen and look for the source of the sound that registers. “Is there … is there a fountain in here?”
He takes my hand and leads me around a collection of plants and potted trees to the far side of the room where a five foot tall sculpture of a bonsai tree stands. Water cascades from each individual cluster of leaves.
“Will …” I can barely breathe.
“It’s made of copper and bronze,” he says.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
He takes my hand and leads me to a small plaque on a wood stand. I read in a whisper, “Let this fountain be a testament to the power of love that endures beyond all obstacles.”
Will raises his eyebrows, as if to ask, “Do you like it?”
I pull his face to mine and our lips crash together. He takes control of the kiss. His hands are everywhere at once, pulling me close, tugging at my jeans, trying to undo my bra. Electricity sparks. I press my hand against the bulge in Will’s pants and try to unzip him.
He takes my hand, presses a kiss to my palm. “Not here. I have one more surprise.”
“Please, Will. I want to make love here. This is paradise.”
“I’m not arguing that or suggesting we leave.” He takes my hand and leads us to a folding privacy screen. He folds back one panel. Then a second.
A wood table, covered in baby evergreen branches and moss, fills the space. A pile of wool blankets and what look like hemp pillows are stacked on a small shelf to the right of the table.
“I made sure the builders didn’t pour concrete in this area. Look.” He points at the floor. “It’s the same rock that makes up the whole mountain. It’s from the property. It’s granite—”
“Shut up you beautiful man, and make love to me.”
Will pauses. “Virginia, I’ve never been happier than I am right now. And that’s saying something since the last year with you has been the best of my life. I can’t imagine a future—hell, I don’t want to even imagine a day without you and your wild hair and hippie earth magic and calming energy wrapped around me.”
The Disneyland-worthy fireworks that ignite in my abdomen are anything but calm. My heart dances and that voice of doom that I thought I’d always have with me—the one that whispered I’d never be good enough for a man like Will—it shakes its little head, sighs, and floats away.
42. Will
SAVED BY DAYLIGHT SAVINGS
Six months later
It’s been a little over a year since I stood in this hallway with Virginia, looking at the wall of the Power men photos.
“Last time I was standing here,” she says, “I was so overwhelmed by everything, your mom’s orchid and having just spent the night with you, that I didn’t register that there are no pictures of your mom here. Seems … wrong.”
“There used to be, when we were kids—before Horse, Brian, Aiden and I needed so much room,” I laugh.
“It’s not funny, Will. It’s sad.”
I take her hand and push open Mother’s bedroom door. “She’s never shown you the room she calls her study, has she?”
