Page 141 of Sparking Sara

He thoughtfully traces the edges of the little boy’s face with his fingers. Then he turns to me. “I don’t want to be Uncle Den anymore,” he says.

I’m not sure what words I thought would come out of his mouth when he saw the painting, but it wasn’t those. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“I’ve been thinking about this for weeks now, Sara.”

“Thinking about what? What do you mean you don’t want to be Uncle Den?”

“I was thinking I’d prefer another title.”

My furrowed brow questions him.

He takes in a deep breath and blows it out. “I was thinking ofDaddy.”

My eyes go wide in surprise. “You want to adopt him?”

He takes my hands in his. “I wantusto adopt him.”

“Us?”

“Hear me out, Sara. I know this is sudden and we’re still young and inexperienced when it comes to kids. I’ve been afraid to bring this up to you, but I feel so strongly that it’s the right thing. I’ve looked into it and we can become foster parents to Joey so he can live with us until the adoption goes through. It’s a lot to ask and maybe you don’t even want this, but I’m asking, anyway.”

I stand here, stunned, unable to move or speak. Unable to hear anything going on around us. Unable to think of anything else but what he’s telling me.

“Why were you afraid to bring this up?” I ask.

“Because you said you wanted to have lots of kids. Your own kids.”

“That’s not what I meant. Denver, if we adopted him, Joeywouldbe my own kid. I always knew I would adopt someday. I wanted to give other kids what my parents gave me.” I look up at the painting. “I guess I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.”

“Do you love him?” he asks.

I think of Joey’s little cherub face and his soft blue eyes. His fine blond hair with a cowlick over his right eye. I think of how he crawled into my lap a few hours ago. And suddenly, this feels right, like everything I ever wanted is happening right here, right now.

I look up at him and smile.

“Wait,” Denver says, sensing I was about to give him my answer. He runs a finger down my jaw. “Sweetheart, you might want to get your phone out.”

“What? Why?”

He pulls a small box from his pants pocket. “Because I’m hoping this is something you’ll want to remember.”

Tears escape my eyes as someone comes up behind me, grabbing my phone before Denver gets down on a knee.

“I was going to wait until the end of the night to do this,” he says. “But then you showed me this painting and I knew I had to do it right now. You, me, and Joey—we were meant to find each other and become a family.” Tears pool in his eyes, one dropping down onto my hand as he takes it into his and places a kiss on it. “I want to be with you forever, Sara Francis. I want to be with Joey forever, along with all of our other kids. I can’t wait to watch you grow our baby in your belly. I can’t wait to see what other child will come into our lives in some unexpected way to complete our family. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. The way I love him. I didn’t even know I could feel like this. I didn’t know there could be so much love to give.”

He lets go of my hand and opens the box. I have to wipe my tears to see clearly. But the truth is, I don’t care if it’s a ten-carat diamond or a plastic dime-store ring—it means more to me than anything ever has. More than any painting. More than any trip. More than any Fifth Avenue apartment.

“Marry me, Sara. Make a family with me. Make a life with me. Play cards with me. Dance to the Beach Boys with me. Grow old with me.”

It’s only now that I realize the entire gallery is silent. All eyes are on us and everyone is waiting for my answer.

I look down at Denver, swallowing the lump in my throat so I can tell him what I need him to hear. “You saved me tonight, Denver. You’ve saved me so many times I can’t even count. You’re my real-life knight in shining armor. You’re everything everyone told me I didn’t want. And from the moment I woke up, I knew it was you. I knew in my heart, even before I knew your name, that you were the man for me. I love the way you love me. I love the way you love Joey. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Denver slips the ring on my finger and then stands up and twirls me around to the cheers of everyone in the room.

“This just became an engagement party, people,” Davis announces.

Denver walks over and gets something off the gallery desk. He smiles at me as he places a red dot by the painting—the dot that indicates it’s been sold. “We’re keeping this one,” he declares as he looks at it with pride.

---