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“You knew about this?”
“Yeah. Dylan and I needed something to talk about at the Family Craft Corner class, considering gossip has been pretty scarce since you’ve been gone,” she teases. “Now, enough chitchat. Go spend time with your family.” She doesn’t wait for my response before hanging up.
My family. I love the sound of that.
Dylan and I may have taken an unconventional path and hit road bumps along the way. Still, our relationship has flourished over the past three months, and I’m genuinely excited for what the future holds.
My heart nearly bursts with joy when I lay my eyes on Dylan, his arms loaded with backpacks and suitcases. He’s jogging alongside Lola but stops briefly to push his glasses up on his nose. He’s positively mouthwatering in his black crewneck T-shirt, light wash jeans, and gray sneakers. And he’s all mine.
“What are you doing here?” I shout as they get closer.
I drop all my art supplies on the sidewalk when Lola sprints toward me, opening my arms wide as she throws her arms around my neck. I lift her off the ground and twirl her around in a circle.
“Marlow,” she exclaims.
Tears threaten to spill as I hold my little girl in my arms after three months of separation. I’m never letting her out of my sight again.
“I’m so glad you’re here, lolabug,” I say as I stroke her hair.
Dylan drops their bags next to my art supplies before enveloping us in a warm embrace. He presses his nose into my hair, inhaling deeply. “I missed you so damn much,” he murmurs.
“I missed you too. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” My voice trembles with shock. “Is the rest of your family here?”
He shakes his head. “No. I wanted to spend quality time alone with my girls.” He presses a tender kiss on my forehead. “Waffles is in Aspen Grove, staying with my parents.”
“I was concerned when I couldn’t reach you or your mom.”
“I’m sorry for making you worry. My dad probably wouldn’t let my mom answer. She’s terrible at keeping secrets and would have spilled the beans if she talked to you.” He chuckles.
“That’s alright.” I nuzzle closer to his chest to make sure he’s really here. “I’m so glad you’re here.
“Me too, sunshine. Me too.”
“Come on, Marlow. We have to hurry.” Lola tugs on my arm, practically pulling me up the stairs.
“Slow down, lolabug,” I urge her. “We have plenty of time, I promise.”
Dylan planned their trip to make sure they arrived in Paris on a Friday, giving us the full weekend to explore the city.
When we reach the top of the steps, Lola lets go of my hand, weaving between other tourists to get to the scenic overlook. She grasps the chain-link fence, and her eyes fill with wonder as she takes in the scenery. I step up behind her, gasping at the stunning view of Paris below.
From here, we can see the Seine gracefully winding its way through the heart of Paris, with the Arc de Triomphe and the Notre Dame Cathedral off in the distance.
“Wow,” Lola says with disbelief. “I can’t believe I’m at the Eiffel Tower just like Madeline.” Clutched to her chest is the copy of her favorite book she insisted on bringing with her.
On the way here, she asked Dylan to take a photo of her in the street near the Eiffel Tower so she had a picture similar to the one on the cover of Madeline. This is a trip she’s going to remember for years to come. So will I.
There’s nothing better than sharing these priceless moments of happiness with the two people I love most, and this is only the beginning.
While Dylan gave Lola a bath last night, I tried calling my parents. We haven’t talked since before my art exhibition in New York. They didn’t pick up, but I left a voicemail. I told them about Dylan and Lola, and how we’d love for them to come visit us in Aspen Grove. There’s no guarantee they’ll ever take me up on my offer, but I’ll always hold out hope that someday they’ll come around.
Regardless, I’ll be okay. I’m incredibly fortunate to have found family and friends who will brave any storm by my side and who love me unconditionally.
As Lola and I take in the view, Dylan wraps himself around me, pressing his nose against my neck. Goosebumps travel up my arms at his touch, and I lean back, inhaling his heady scent of mint and cedar. He plants soft kisses along the column of my neck, slowly making his way up to the shell of my ear.
“What do you think?” he whispers, motioning to our surroundings.
“It’s absolutely beautiful.” I tilt my head to look him in the eyes. “But I much prefer Aspen Grove.”
