Page 54 of Dream with Me

A half-hour later, the roast vegetables have just finished in the oven, and I’m pulling the pan-seared chicken—Shannon’s favorite—off the stovetop when Oliver comes flying into the room.

“She’s in the driveway! Livvy went to get Chelsea. C’mon, Dad. Grab Chase, and let’s go hide in the living room!” This is the most excitement I’ve seen from our boy in ages. I make sure the stovetop is off, grab a giggling Chase, and carry him over my shoulder as we all head into the living room. I didn’t know we were doing the hiding shebang, but I’m all for it.

Chelsea and Oliver shake with eagerness as we hear Shannon come in through the mudroom door. The kids listen intently, grins on their faces and eyes wide.

“Hello?” Shannon calls out. “Oh, my gosh. What smells so good?” she asks no one in particular. I can tell when she’s figured out something is up. “Hmm. Where are all my favorite kiddos? I hope they didn’t move away while I was gone.”

Chelsea lets a sweet giggle escape her, and Olivia holds up her fingers to count us down from three. When she puts down the final finger, we all jump up and into the hallway with shouts of “Surprise!”

“Oh!” Shannon does a great job of pretending to be caught off guard, and she pulls the kids in for hugs. “I missed you all so much!” She pauses and looks around the room at the balloons and streamers. “And what’s all this?”

“It’s a party, Mom! For finishing your tests,” Oliver explains. Shannon holds back a grin, pretending like she didn’t realize that already.

When she’s done oohing and aahing over the decor, she turns to me and gives me a tired smile.

“Kids,” I say, “go wash up for dinner. It’s all ready to go.” The three older ones race out of the room, and I pick up Chase to carry him to the kitchen sink. Before I leave the room, I look over at her. “Sorry about springing all of this on you. I’m sure you’re exhausted, but I couldn’t get them to understand the concept you wouldn’t have your test results today. They insisted. I made dinner, but if you want to eat alone with the kids, I can?—”

Her hand on my forearm stops me. “Thank you for helping them do this. It’s sweet. Of course, I want you to stay. Now let’s get in there. I’m starving, and that smells suspiciously like pan-seared chicken and roasted veggies. Please tell me I’m right...”

An hour later everyone has eaten, and the kids insist it’s time for presents. Shannon’s eyes widen.

“There’s even presents? Oh, my goodness.”

Oliver and Chelsea guide her by the hands to the couch and place her where they think she should sit while Olivia brings out the wrapped presents. They hand her the presents in the order they think she should open them, and she does an amazing job of fawning over pens, sticky notes, and other office supplies. All very practical and Chelsea’s pick. The cute thing is, I know Shannon will love them. I’ve never seen a woman with so many sticky notes.

She raves over how much she loves Chase’s crayon scribbles.

Then Olivia hands Shannon a present, and when she opens it, she smiles radiantly at the pretty, flower-covered notebook Olivia chose.

“Even powerful women should have pretty things around them at work,” Olivia tells her.

I watch Oliver as he observes Shannon opening everyone else’s gifts. He’s practically bouncing from his excitement. He slides the box his gift is in over to Shannon.

“This is big,” Shannon observes. When she opens it, she pulls out dishcloth after dishcloth from inside the box.

“They’re to protect it, Mom.” I hold back my laughter. Oliver insisted on packing it like this, even for the short walk from the workshop into the house. Shannon nods and continues her careful unwrapping.

When she gets all the washcloths out and lifts the simple desk organizer out of the box, she inhales sharply.

“Owlie, this is beautiful. Did you make this?”

He nods eagerly. “Dad helped a little.”

“Just a little,” I add, pinching my thumb and index finger together to gesture a tiny amount.

“I made it with popular—” Oliver pauses and looks up at me for confirmation he has the name right. I bend down and whisper to him that it’s poplar. “I mean poplar because it has the purple streaks, and I know when Dad makes you stuff, you like when the wood has the purple.”

Shannon runs her hands over the smooth wood, and Oliver watches her closely. His face beams with pride.

“I love it so much.” Then she looks around at the other kids as well. “All of it. Thank you, guys. I’m the luckiest mom in the world.” Her eyes mist, and she blinks rapidly several times, presumably to fight back any tears.

“Wait, where’s yours, Dad?” Oliver asks. His eyes dart around the area near the couch. “Did you forget it?”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Oh, um. Maybe another time.”

“Don’t be silly. Yours is good, too,” Oliver assures me. I look up at Shannon, and she’s holding back a smile at his words. Before I can say anything else, Oliver says, “I’ll go get it!” He’s off before I have any chance of stopping him.

Within minutes, Oliver rushes back into the room. He’s holding a lump of something covered in a large bath towel. “Sorry, we didn’t have a gift bag for this one, Mom. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom, though, so it’ll stay a surprise.”

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