Page 143 of Your Soul to Keep

Brian picked Dylan up and waltzed her over to the dining room table.

I got the sweetest sense of Deja Vue. Like I’d done this before, and would do it again, over and over again.

“It’s a good thing you’re a fire fighter,” I laughed, faintly embarrassed by the light emanating from the cake, but blessed beyond belief at this, my second birthday party, arranged by the man at my back.

Stepping in front of me, Gabe grasped my hands firmly and walked backwards. “I love you.” His eyes crinkled. “Now blow out your candles before we set our house on fire.”

Maeve set the cake down on the table.

My laughter died as every atom of my being laser-focussed on the cake. Surrounded by a solid ring of candles, Barbie winked up at me.

My heart lodged in my throat.

I reached frantically for Gabe’s hand and found it already waiting for me.

He squeezed my hand and murmured, his voice low and steady, “Happy Birthday, Shae-baby.”

I couldn’t speak.

Someone yelled, “Make a wish!”

I closed my eyes tightly and wished with all my heart.

Nan’s voice echoed in my mind.

May the dreams you hold dearest be those which come true.

With Gabe’s hand holding tightly onto mine, I blew out the candles.

The Following December

Lipstick and Lace

I sat quietly.

A stolen moment.

My fingers ran over the delicate lace at my wrist as if each thread told a story.

Set high on the wall, an antique stained-glass window filtered the bright winter sun and painted the floor with light.

The small room was made tinier still with the temporary addition of Nan’s vanity, but I couldn’t do this without her.

I sat down gingerly and looked at myself in the mirror.

Bits of my hair, swept up in front and tumbling down my back in loose curls, had escaped in softly curling wisps of gold around my face.

Over the 18 months we’d been together, Gabe had successfully trained it out of its ponytail.

Now, it refused to be contained.

Feeling caught in a long-lost dream, I checked to ensure I’d switched my engagement ring to my right hand before double-checking my dress.

Long, fitted sleeves ended in delicate lace cuffs. Embroidered with burnished thread, they neatly encircled my wrists with gold. The narrow shoulders of my dress framed a sweetheart neckline that just barely exposed the swells of my breasts, while the drop waist hugged my curves before cascading to the floor.

The earrings Mrs. Wemberly insisted I borrow sparkled in my ears while the tiara Nan wore on her wedding day captured every drop of light.

Bridge opened the door a crack and peeked in. Smiling softly, she tilted her head to the side and took me in. “Hey, beautiful. It’s time.”

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